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ELOQUENCE A YIRTUE; 



OB, 



OUTLII^ES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC, 

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OV 

DE. FRANCIS THEREMIN, 

BY 

WILLIAM G. T. SHEDD. 

•WITH 

AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

BEVISED EDITION. 



ANDO VEK; 
WARREN F. DRAPER. 

BOSTON: OOULD AND LINCOLN. 

NEW YORK: WILEY AND HALSTEP. 

PHILADELPmA : SIVHTH, ENGLISH & CO. 

1860. 









Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, 
BY W. F. DRAPER, 
In the Clerk's Ofl5ce of the District Court for the District of Massachusetts. 



ELECTEOTTPKD AND PRIKTEi> 
Br Vr. T. DBAPEE, ANDOVER, MASa. 




ADVERTISEMENT 



TO THE SECOND EDITION 



The edition of this -work published in 1850 has become exhausted, 
and the existing demand for it is such as to warrant its republication. 
The translator undertook the work primarily to supply a need which 
he felt for a text-book adapted to the more advanced class of students, 
and he has been encouraged to learn that other teachers have found 
the same adaptedness in it. The opportunity, afforded by a reprint, 
has been embraced, to attempt to explain and illustrate the leading 
position of the treatise, in an Introductory Essay, as well as to throw 
some more light upon the general subject of Rhetoric and Eloquence. 
The series of Questions, which has also been appended to this edition, 
will serve, it is hoped, to generaUze the contents for the student, and 
thereby to assist him in getting possession of them. The work is again 
committed to the public, with the confident belief that its influence, 
wherever felt, will be truthful and salutary. 



CONTENTS 



PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION, 9 

INTRODUCTORY ESSAY BY THE TRANSLATOR, .... 17 

BOOK I. 

ON INVENTION. 
CHAPTER I. 

DESIGN AND USE OF THE PROPOSED INVESTIGATION, ... 61 



CHAPTER II. 

ELOQUENCE IS NOT AN INTERMEDIATE BETWEEN POETRY AND 

PHILOSOPHY, 57 



CHAPTER III. 

ELOQUENCE IS NEITHER POETRY NOR PHILOSOPHY, 

1* 



VI CONTENTS. 

CH APTEK lY. 

PAGE 

ELOQUENCE IS A VIRTUE, .64 

A. 

CHAPTER V. 

IDEAS, 72 

CHAPTERVI. ,^ 

THE POLITICAL AND RELIGIOUS FORM OF PRACTICAL IDEAS, . 76 

CHAPTER VII. I 

THE DIFFERENT SPECIES OF ELOQUENCE, 81 ^ 

CHAPTER VIII. 

VIRTUE IS ALSO GOOD SENSE, 86 

' i 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE SUBORDINATE IDEAS, OR CATEGORIES, . . . *. .91 

CHAPTER X. 
THE CATEGORY, TRUTH, 93 ' 

CHAPTER XI. 

THE RHETORICAL DEMONSTRATION OF TRUTH, 95 



CONTENTS. VII 

CHAPTER XII. 

PAGE 

THE CATEGORIES, POSSIBILITY AND ACTUALITY, . . . .105 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THE PLAN AND DIVISION OF AN ORATION, 109 

CHAPTER XIV. 

FIRST FEATURES TOWARDS A SKETCH OF THE ORATOR, . . 121 



BOOK II. 

ON ELOCUTION. 

CHAPTER I. 
AFFECTION AND PASSION, 127 



CHAPTER II. 

THE DUTY OF THE ORATOR TO SPEAK WITH AFFECTION, AND 

TO AWAKEN AFFECTION, 135 



CHAPTER III. 

THE DIFFERENT KINDS OF AFFECTION, .141 

APPENDIX— WIT, 147 



Vin CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER IV. 

PAGE 

THE MEANS OF EXCITING AFFECTION; OK, THE EHETOEI- 

CAL PKESENTATION OF THOUGHT, 151 



CHAPTER V. 

THE LAW OF ADAPTATION, 156 

APPENDIX — TASTE, 176 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE LAW OF CONSTANT PROGRESS, 179 

CHAPTER VII. 

THE LAW OF VIVACITY, 191 

CHAPTER VIII. 
PROSE, . 2oa 

CHAPTER IX. 

CONCLUSION, 206 

SUPPLEMENT,. 207 

QUESTIONS, 215 



PREFACE 

TO THE FIRST EDITION. 



It is believed that this little treatise upon Rhetoric possesses 
some characteristics which render it worthy of a place among the 
current English treatises on this subject. Perhaps no one will be 
readj to assent to all the positions laid down in it, and many may 
think that in its method and spirit it is altogether too foreign to our 
own modes of thought and expression, to be of any worth to the 
English student. Still, if used in the right way, it is thought 
that it may be made to contribute to a broad and thorough di.<ci- 
pline in this department of culture. For no production, espe- 
cially of a foreign mind, should be servilely received by the 
student, or allowed to exert an arbitrary and violent influence 
upon him He should retain his own individuality and nation- 
ality in their most independent and determined forms, while, at 
the same time, he opens his mind and heart to all that is true and 
genial in a foreign lilerature. Non-intercourse is as impolitic 
and injurious in the world of contemplation, as it is in the world 
of action. 

Moreover, tlie present state of Rhetoric, considered a- one of 
the coordinate branches of discipline, to which the mind of the 
student is subjected in the course of liberal education, seems to 
call for the infusion of an element which may be found in this 
treatise of Theremin. Rhetoric, in its best estate, is but the 
science of Form, or to use Milton's phrase, an " organic," i. e., 
instrumental, Ai't. It does not propose to furnish the material 



X PREFACE. 

of knowledge, but only to put the material, when furnished, into 
as fine and perfect forms as possible. Owing partly to this in- 
trinsic nature of Rhetoric as an art, and partly perhaps to the 
excessively popular character which science and scientific state- 
ments have assumed in the present age. Rhetoric has become ex- 
tremely superficial in its character and influence, so that the 
term '' rhetorical " has become the synonyme of shallow and 
showy. Dissevered from Logic, or the necessary laws of 
thought, it has become dissevered from the seat of life, and has 
degenerated into a mere collection of rules respecting the struc- 
ture of sentences and the garnish of expression.* 

Any treatise, therefore, of which the tendency is to restore 
the connection between thought and its expression, cannot but 
be beneficial in its influence upon both the theory and practice 
of Eloquence. Even if it were constructed upon a false fuu'- 
damental principle, and as a systematic whole were incorrect, 
still the mere effort to systematize the subject, the striving to 
ground it in something deeper and more sohd than its own hollow 
forms, would not be without its salutary influence upon the art itself 
and the student. It would, at least, direct attention to the fact, 
that an art like Rhetoric should be based upon some science, and 
that its rules and maxims, in order to be efficient and influential, 
must be the off-shoots of principles lying deeper than themselves. 
It would point to the adaptation that really exists in the nature 
of things, and that ought actually to exist in practice, between an 

=* Lord Bacon remarks that it was an error in the educational course of 
his time, " that scholars in universities come too soon and too unnpe to 
logic and rhetoric, arts fitter for graduates than children and novices : for 
these two, rightly taken, are the gravest of sciences, being the art of arts ; 
the one for judgment, the other for ornament : and they be the rules and 
directions how to set forth and dispose matter , and therefore for minds 
empty and unfraught with matter, and which have not gathered that which 
Cicero calleth 'sylva' and 'supellex,' stuff and variety, to begin with those 
arts (as if one should learn to weigh, or to measure, or to paint the wind,) 
doth work but this effect, that the wisdom of those arts, which is great and 
universal, is almost made contemptible, and is degenerated into childish 
sophistry and ridiculous affectation." — Advancement of Learning, Book I. 



PREFACE. XI 

instrument employed by the human mind, and addressing itself 
to it, and the human mind itself. 

The work of Theremin, whether it be true or false in sub- 
stance, is, what it purports to be, Si systematic Rhetoric. It does 
not begin with rules, and it does not, in starting, deal in minute 
observations upon minutice ; but it begins with the Ideas which 
are conceived to underlie the whole subject, and to constitute the 
ground and soil from which the whole after-development and 
detail will naturally spring. It begins at the beginning, goes 
through the middle, and so arrives at the end. 

Now there is power in such a method, apart from its contents. 
The course and movement of the system is according to nature. 
Commencing with the Matter, it pi'oceeds to the Form, which is 
to take shape and character, and all its qualities, from that primi- 
tive material for whose sake alone it has any existence at all. 

" Well may men knowen, but it be a fool, 
That every part deriveth from his hool. 
For Nature hath not taken his begmning 
Of no partie ne cantel of a thing, 
But of a thing tliat parfit is and stable 
Descending so, til it be corrumpable." * 

The whole tendency of such a theory of Rhetoric is to pro- 
duce, in practice, masculine and thoughtful discourse. The 
student, if we may use the term, is headed right by it, and is 
taught to apply his best power to the evolution of truth and the 
production of thought in his own mind, not surely to the neglect 
of the Form in which it is to be expressed, but in order to the 
highest and most perfect elaboration of the Form. He is taught 
to be severe with himself, to forget himself in the theme, that he 
may exhibit it with that boldness and freedom of manner, that 
daring strength and grandeur of treatment, which is absolutely 
beyond the reach of him who is anxious respecting the impres- 
sion he may make ; who, in short, is tormented by too much 

* CLaucer, Knightes Tale. 



XII PREFACE. 

consciousness of self, at a time when he should be absorbingly 
conscious of the theme. 

According to the theory here presented, the Oration, — mean- 
ing by this, every rounded and complete discourse, — is the evo- 
lution of an Idea, which is the germ and principle of the whole 
composition. Hence it is simple in its structure, and homogen- 
eous in its character ; fitted to enlist the whole attention of the 
hearer, and to produce one distinct total impression. 

Nothing can be of greater benefit to the student, than, in the 
very beginning of his intellectual life, to be habituated to com- 
pose in the light, and by the guidance, and under the impulse, of 
Ideas ; than to be enabled to discover those germinal truths which 
are pregnant with life, and which, when embodied Avith freedom 
and power in a discourse, constitute the ground-work of the finest 
creations of the human mind. And apart from the benefit which 
is to be derived from this habit and ability, for the practical pur- 
poses of Rhetoric, what a benefit is derived from it in respect to 
the private contemplations and enjoyment of the scholar ! Sup- 
posing he does not need this ability, because he is never called 
upon to speak or write to his feilovv-men, (a supposition that is 
hardly to the credit of an educated man in this peculiar age, *) 
does he not need it, in order that his own mind may reach essen- 
tial truth, and may, in its own reflections, follow the method and 
order of Reason ? In what a serene and constant illumination 
does that mind dwell, which is able in its meditations to find the 
fontal truth as it were by instinct, and to unfold it by its own 
light, and in accordance with its own structure ! 

By such a theory the student is introduced into the world of 
Ideas, Laws and Principles, and is taught to begin with these, 
and from them to work out towards detail, elaboration and orna- 
ment. It is a mysterious world, it is true, and it must be, from 
the very fact that it is the source and origin. But it is the very 

^'^ " Ob eamque causam eloqui copiose, modo prudenter, meUus est, qiiam 
vel acutissime sine eloquentia cogitare : quod cogitatio in se ipsa vertiLur, 
eloquentia complectitur eos, quibus cum communitate juncti sumus." — 
Cicero, De Officiis, Lib. I. cap. 44. 



T R E F AC E . XIII 

office-work of thinking to convert these Ideas into clear concep- 
tions ; to put these vast unlimited truths into definite and intelli- 
gible discourse ; in fine, in the strict meaning of the term, to 
develop truth. 

He is the mystical and obscure discourser who leaves truth as 
he finds it; who does not, by the aid of close thinking and a 
rigorous remorseless logic, compel the dark truthful Idea to yield 
up its secret ; who does not force the contents out of the all- 
comprehending law or principle. And he is the clear and in- 
telligible discourser, in the only high sense of the term, — clear 
while solid, intelligible while weighty, — who, not starting in light 
to make things light, starts in darkness and works his way out 
into high noon. In both the Pagan and Christian cosmogonies, 
creation emerged from old night. 

But if we are not mistaken, the theory presented in this work 
is true in its substance. It teaches tlmt Eloquence is moral in 
essence ; that it has a moral origin, moral means and movement, 
and a moral end. It teaches, with what may seem pertinacity 
to some, that in its substance and its accidents, its primary laws 
and secondary rules. Eloquence is ethical. 

This is not a new theory. As the author remarks, it was dis- 
tinctly announced by the elder Cato, and mentioned with appro- 
bation by Quintilian, a critic whose exquisite taste often brought 
him to an indistinct intimation of truths, which a more profound 
genius would have brought out into distinct intuition. It has, 
moreover, been the tacitly-received theory of all the great minds, 
the really eloquent of the race. We have it on the authority 
of Cicero, * that " Socrates dicere solebat, omnes, in eo, quod 
scircnt, satis esse eloquentes." By this he could only mean, that the 
moral feeling and interest generated by clear knowledge of truth, 
is the ground of that methodical, earnest, and animating mental 
action which we denominate Eloquence, — a truth which may be 
found substantially, if not formally, falling from the lips of 
Socrates in the Gorgias. Add to this the decisive statement of 

* De Oraiore, I., 14. 






XIV PREFACE. 

BufFon, '"' Le style — c'est 1 'homme,'' wiiich meets with an equally 
decisive response within us, together with the views of Elo- 
quence left us in the remarkable fragments of Pascal, and we 
find that the theory in question is no newly broached one, but 
one that is unconsciously formed by the thoughtful and eloquent 
mind everywhere. 

Most certainly the tendency and influence of such a theory of 
Eloquence must be good and elevating. Setting aside the fact, 
that if it be the true theory, it is the only one by the aid of 
which Eloquence can come into existence, it is the only working 
theory, it is most certainly a great point gained, if an art, 
so often supposed to be at furthest remove from earnestness, 
and seriousness, which is regarded too commonly as the art by 
which the ornaments are furnished when the solid and real work 
has been done, is shown to have its native seat and source in 
Ethics. The expression of thought by this theory becomes a 
sincere process, and the mind, while giving utterance to its re- 
flections, is really contributing to the moral culture and develop- 
ment of the man. The productions of such a Rhetoric are marked 
by that grave and conscientious character which is the natural 
fruit of simplicity and sincerity in the mental processes. The 
influence of the theory is felt even in the language employed. 
It is no longer stiff, stilted, and aloof from the thought, but pliant, 
vital, and consubstantial with it. 

Finally, it is believed that the theory of Eloquence here set 
forth harmonizes with the true theory of Art. Perhaps the 
greatest defect in many of the current treatises upon Rhetoric is 
the absence of correct views of the principles of Art. Oratory 
is claimed, (though not by Theremin,) to be one of the Fine 
Arts ; and how, then, can a clue to its mystery and power be 
obtained without a philosophic knowledge of those laws and 
principles by which embodiment, whether in Nature or Art, is 
regulated and impelled ? 

"We say embodiment whether in Nature or Art, because the 
method of each is essentially the same. In both, a creative Idea 
is the starting point and the guiding principle, and the movement 



PREFACE. XV 

in both is free and original. A genuine work of Art is no more 
a copy or a mechanical production, than a work in Nature is. It 
is not the product of ingenuity improved by practice and experi- 
ence, but of impulsive genius, and the same characteristics are 
found in it, according to the degree of its perfection as a work of 
Art, that are found in Nature. Indeed, we demand that a work 
of Art have Nature in it, u e., be original, fresh, living, glowing, 
breathing ; a demand that would be unreasonable if there were 
no likeness at bottom between Art and Nature. As Nature, ac- 
cording to Sir Thomas Bix)wn, is the Art of God, so Art is man's 
Nature, and sustains the same relation to the Finite mind that 
creation does to the Infinite. 

By this is not meant, of course, that it sustains the same rela- 
tion maieriaUy, but only forniuU?/. The work of Art is the crea- 
tion of the finite imagination, in the sense that it is the em- 
bodiment and result of an Idea, a productive thought, which 
sprang from the innermost recesses of this human faculty. As 
Nature is the result and embodiment of divine Ideas, so Art is 
the result and embodiment of human Ideas. The two differ 
from each other as the Infinite differs from the Finite, but they 
are alike, as reason in man is the same in kind with reason in 
God. We say, then, that the work of Art is formally — i. e., in 
respect to its origin from a productive Idea, and in resjiect to the 
plastic method of its construction, — like the work of Nature ; 
that man, the Artist, works creatively, not in the absolute and 
highest sense of creating something out of nothing, in which 
sense God is the only creator, but in the secondary yet significant 
sense of embodying Ideas, of producing works to which the 
terms applied to the works of Nature find a natural and spon- 
taneous application, the world over. 

Now, it is evident that Rhetoric, whose oflUce it is to guide tlie 
student into the right method of embodying his thought, and which 
is the very science of Form, should itself be formative, con- 
structive, plastic. But how is such a Rhetoric possible, if the 
theory that is formed is not only not conformed to, but positively 
contradicts, the laws and principles of what, after the remarks 



XVI PREFACE 

above mfide upon Nature and Art, may be denominated Univer- 
sal Art ? Plainly, then, it is only by a deep and true insight 
into the nature of Art, in its widest sense, that a system of 
Rhetoric can arise that will lead to the production of works ap- 
peahng with pawer to the imagination as well as the intellect 

This treatise of Theremin, while it strictly distinguishes Elo- 
quence, by virtue of its moral character and its external aim and 
end, from a merely artistic process, at the same time sutnciently 
recognizes the aesthetic element in it, and while, by some, the 
author might be thouglit to have carried out his theory too rig- 
orously, and have shown too much fear lest the high ethical 
character of Eloquence should be suffered to lose itself in the 
lower sphere of mere Art, he has by this very thing imparted to 
Eloquence a still higher character and a still more energetic 
power. For by thus insisting that, while the means employed by 
Eloquence may be aesthetic, and the form in which it appears 
artistic, the great end constantly aimed at must be moral, and 
only moral, the author has furnished a Rhetoric tliat is not 
only formative and plastic, but organijic, and has thus superin- 
duced life upon the lifeless. Art in this case passes over into 
the production of living realities ; the old fable of Pygmalion 
becomes actuality ; the oration is not only a beautiful and fault- 
less form, it is also a living soul. 

The work has been translated mainly for the purpose of fur- 
nishing a text-book, to be used in a free reproductive manner in 
giving instruction in the department of Rhetoric. It is believed, 
however, that any one who shall make use of it, by entering into 
its spirit and method in a free and independent manner, will find 
more or less in it promotive of a sound way of thought, and a 
serious, deep-toned Eloquence. 

The Translator. 

University or Vermont, Nov. 24, 1849. 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY, 

BY THE TRANSLATOR. 



The proper product of Rhetoric is Eloquence, and the purpose 
of a rhetorical education is to produce an eloquent thinker, and 
an eloquent writer or speaker. So far as it comes short of this, 
therefore, Rhetoric comos short of i^3 true end. 

Hence it becomes important to inquire, first of all, into the 
essential nature of Eloquence itself; and, particularly, to define 
it in such a manner as to detect aU false products, and preclude 
all specious methods and models. For nothing exerts a more 
injurious influence upon the taste, the studies, and the mental 
habits of an educated man than a false idea of Eloquence. All 
educated men desire to be eloquent, and at times make greater 
or less effort to be so. An eloquent man is, universally, an ob- 
ject of admiration and of imitation. The idea of Eloquence is 
consequently one that exerts a highly formative and modifying 
influence upon both individual and national culture. When 
an educated man has been seized by this idea, when he has be- 
come possessed -with the desire and the aim to influence public 
opinion by free and fluent speech, how wonderfully are all his 
thoughts, and feelings, and acquirements, pressed into the service 
of it. If he has the true idea, he almost invariably becomes elo- 
quent ; if he has the false idea, he invariably becomes over-oriia- 
mented, and glittering, and degenerates into inflation, and bom- 
bast, — so energetic and influential is the idea itself, whether 
truly or falsely apprehended. It enters the mind with an inter- 
est and influence peculiar to itself, and works there Avitli all the 
potency of a plastic principle. The thought of becoming a phi- 



18 ^INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

losopher, or a poet, or an artist, or a man of science, Avlien once 
formed, indeed exerts a controlling influence upon the whole in- 
tellectual life ; but the thought of becoming an eloquent man, a 
man who " wields at will the fierce democracie and shakes the 
arsenal," exerts an overmastering influence, so that the mind 
either becomes the most passionate of the passionate, or else the 
feeblest of the feeble, according to the truth or falsity of its idea 
of Eloquence, and its ideal of an Orator. 

I. In proceeding to discuss the true nature and essential prop- 
erties of Eloquence, it is deserving of notice, that nearly as many 
definitions have been given of Eloquence, as of Poetry, and so far 
as a perfectly exhaustive definition is concerned, with about the 
same success. Perhaps no one definition that shall include all 
the essential qualities of wlftit are strictly vital products of the 
human mind can be given. \{q must be content to reach the 
inward nature of Poetry, of Art, and of Eloquence, by approxi- 
mations ; by several definitions, each of which contemplates some 
particular aspect of the subject, and specifies some peculiar 
characteristic omitted by the others. The more mechanical and 
common products of the human understanding may often be 
clearly comprehended in a single conception, and fully defined in 
one statement ; but its rarer, richer, and more living productions, 
such as Poetry and Eloquence, being more mysterious in their 
origin, are more difficult of comprehension, and consequently of 
definition. We may lay it down as a general rule, that in pro- 
portion as a product takes its origin in the more spontaneous, ini- 
pulsive, and original agencies of the mind ; in proportion as it is 
less the work of mere experience, and trial, like a product of use- 
ful art, or of mere memory and classification, like a manual of 
science ; in proportion as its nature is living, and its origin is 
fresh, will it be more difficult to bring it within the limits of a 
concise and full definition. Like the definition of Life itself, the 
definition of Poetry, and Art, and Eloquence, must be an approx- 
imation only. 

Socrates, according to Cicero,* was wont to say that all men 

* De Oratore, I. 14. 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 19 

speak eloquently when they have a thorough knowledge of their 
subject, and Cicero coincided with him in the afiirmation. The 
duty and ofRce of Rhetoric, and hence of Eloquence, according to 
Bacon,* is to apply reason to imagination for the better moving 
of the Avill. Style, says Buffon, — by which he means the style 
of Eloquence, — is the man himself; a definition corresponding 
with the remark of Pascal, that a simple and natural style, the 
eloquence of nature, enchants us with reason ; for while we are 
looking out for an author we find a man. Eloquence, says 
D'Alembert,t is the ability to cause a sentiment, with which the 
mind is deeply penetrated, to pass with rapidity into the souls of 
others, and imprint itself there with force and energy. Elo- 
quence, says Campbell,! adopting the definition of Quintilian, is 
that art or talent by which the discourse is adapted to its end, 
and the end of discourse is to move the will. 

If we examine these definitions we shall find that they all pre- 
suppose a common nature and properties in Eloquence, and are, 
all of them, approximate definitions of it. Neither of them is 
sufficient of itself to exhaust tliB subject, — perhaps all of them 
together are insufficient, — but they all look one way, and give 
the mind of the inquirer one general direction. They all teach 
or imply, that truth is the substance, and principle, of all true 
Eloquence, — truth clearly perceived, deejjly felt, and distinctly 
ej-pressed. Men are eloquent in proportion as they thoroughly 
know their subject, say Socrates and Cicero. Eloquence is truth 
all aglow and practically effective in a human soul, it is reason 
in the forms of the imagination in order to influence the will, says 
Bacon. It is the cooperation of the understanding with the im- 
agination and the passions, in order to carry the will, say Quin- 
tilian and Campbell. Eloquence is truth felt and transferred to 
others, it is the transfer of the orator's consciousness into the 
auditor's consciousness, says D'Alembert. 

All these definitions teach that plain verity is the substance of 

* Adrancement of Learning, Book II. 

t Eeflections sur I'elocution oratoire. Oeuvres, lY. 275. 

J Philosophy of Rhetoric, Book L Chap. I. 



20 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

Eloquence, and that through the transformation which it under- 
goes by passing through an earnest and eloquent mind, its final 
elKict is to carry the whole man, head, heart and will, along with 
it. This carriage of men's minds, this mental movement in 
speaker and hearers, this streaming jiow of thought and feeling 
to an outward end, seems to be inseparably connected, in all these 
definitions, with Eloquence as difierent from other forms of dis- 
course. While in the essay, the historical narrative, or the phi- 
losophical disquisition, the thought more or less moves in a circle, 
returning back upon itself, and thus forming a wider expanse, in 
the oration, the thought is ever rushing onward in a deep nar- 
row channel, like a river to the main. We are speaking, of 
course, of an ideal or perfect oration ; and bearing this in mind, 
we may say that in proportion as the mind of the orator is impro- 
gressive in its action, it ceases to be eloquent in its action and in- 
fluence. A mind that is continually eddying ; that is inclined to 
dwell long, either upon a particular thought, or upon the expres- 
sion of it, either upon a bright idea, or a beautiful figure ; must 
break up this habit, and overcome this disposition, before it can 
create that strong rushing current, that overwhelming, overbearing 
torrent in a discourse, which under the name of Seii/drrys the 
Greeks regarded as the height of Eloquence. By this term, which 
was applied particularly to the eloquence of Demosthenes, the 
Greeks intended to denote that overpowering vehemence, in the 
exercise of the mental powers, which results from a clear con- 
sciousness of the truth and the right, united with a glowing fiery 
interest for it. This vehemence of soul, this onward sweeping 
rush in a channel which the mind has worn into a subject, and 
which it is continually wearing deeper, is preclusive of all retro- 
grade movements, and of all stationary attitudes. Even if the 
subject calls in a great amount of argumentative or explanatory 
matter, this current draws it all into its own volume, so that it 
accelerates rather than impedes its mighty flow. " In his oration 
for the crown," remarks one,* " Demosthenes must have had as 

* Marsh's Remains ; Tract on Elog^uence. 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 21 

cumbrous a satcliel, as anj bearer of the green bag in our courts 
of law. He brings forward a f2:reat ma-s of testimonies, vrritten 
and oral laws of Athens, decrees of foreign towns and of the 
Amphictyonic council, and records of history, all exhibited and 
discussed with the utmost force and clearness. But through the 
whole process, there is an under-current and moving power of 
passion and eloquence that carrier us forward to a final and una- 
voidable result. It is as thou2;h we were embarked upon a 
mighty river. All is animation and energ}^ around, and we gaze 
with a momentary reverie upon the deep and transparent waters 
beneath. But even while we admire, the current grows deeper 
and deeper, and w^e are unconsciously hurried onward with in- 
creasing and irresistible power." 

An eloquent mind, then, is a mind under motion. It is a mind 
moving forward, under the inflnence of clear "knowledge and 
deep feeling, with constantly accelerated motion, and constantly 
increasing momentum, to a final end, which is always a practical 
one. Eloquence itself, then, is thought with an impulse in it, 
thought with a drift and rush in it. Eloquence is, as we instinct- 
ively denominate it, a flood. * 

■ ^Vithout dwelling longer upon these definitions, and others that 
have been given of Eloquence, we proceed now to a considera- 
tion of that particular one, upon which Theremin founds his 
rhetorical system. Eloquence, says Theremin, is a Virtue. 
This definition differs from the others that have been quoted, 

^ " Hazlitt, " says De Quincr, " was not eloquent, because he was discon- 
tinuous. Ko man can be eloquent whose thoughts are abrupt, insuhited, and 
(to Ikhtow an impressive word from Coleridge) non-sequacious. Eloquence 
resides not in sepai'ate or fractional ideas, but in the relation of manifold 
ideas, and in the mode of their evolution from each other. It is not indeed 
enough that the ideas should be many, and their I'elations coherent ,• the 
main condition lies in the kp)/ of the evolution, in the law of the succession. 
The elements are nothing without the atmosphere that moulds and the dy- 
namic forces that combine. Now, Hazlitt's brilliancy is seen chiefly in 
separate splinterings of phrase or image which throw upon the eye a vitreous 
scintillation for a moment, but spread no deep suffusions of color, and distri- 
bute no masses of mighty shadow. A flash, a solitary flash, and all is gone." 



22 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

more in appearance than in reality. It does not, as its author 
remark-^, dltFer essentially from the definition given by the elder 
Cato, and handed down to us with approbation by Quintilian ; and 
it coincides with the general doctrine taught by the more pro- 
found writers upon Eloquence, in all ages, — all T)f whom have 
recognized the moral element as the essential one in this species 
of intellectual productions. Stated, however, in this brief and 
striking form, Eloquence seems to become identical with Morality, 
and the author in one place actually speaks of Rhetoric as a 
part of Morals. * By this, however, it is conceived he did not 
mean to imply that Eloquence is merely and simply a moral vir- 
tue, and is therefore sufficiently defined w^hen it is put into the 
list of virtues, along with temperance, or honesty, or veracity. 
Perhaps the real meaning of the author would be more precisely 
expressed, by saying that Eloquence is an intellectual Virtue. 
It has a common origin with the moral virtues, in the resolute 
action of the moral force or character of the man, and, so far as 
the point of ultimate origin is concerned, may therefore be de- 
nominated virtuous, or of the nature of virtue. The theory of 
Theremin is, that all true Eloquence springs ultimately from in- 
tegrity and strength of character; that the principle and the 
power by wdiich the several faculties of the mind concerned in 
the production of Eloquence are actuated and guided is a volun- 
tary principle and power, and hence that the product, in its ulti- 
mate and essential nature, must be moral Let us explain in de- 
tail, that the theory may be understood. In the production of 
an eloquent oration, the understanding, the imagination, and the 
feelings, are employed. By the first mentioned faculty, truth 
simple and abstract is presented to the understanding of the 
hearer. By the second, this same truth is taken out of this ab- 
stract and intellectual form, and put into an imaginative form for 
the imagination of the hearer. And by the feelings, it is again 
transmuted in order to awaken and stir emotion in the hearts of 
others. Now, it is plain that the excellence of the oration de- 

'^ Book I., Chap. xiv. 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 



g3 



pends upon the presence in it, of some po^er or principle that 
shall swallow up into the unity of its own life all these processes 
of the understanding, imagination, and feelinsjs, and thereby be- 
come that vehement and terrible energy, which we have seen, 
according to the Greek definition, is the reality and vitality of 
Eloquence. The unity of the oration, moreover, depends upon 
the proportionate and harmonious exercise of these several facul- 
ties. Any excess in the functions of the understanding, e. g., 
will be to the injury of those of the imagination and the feelings. 
The oration, in this case, must either lose its unity, or else give 
up its oratorical character and pretensions, and be converted into a 
philosophic essay. And the same may be said {mutatis mu- 
tandis), in case of an excessive action of either of the remaining 
two faculties concerned in the production of Eloquence. 

Now, that power by which each of these faculties is to be 
guided and governed, so that there shall be a just proportion and 
true harmony in their co- working, is the ivill of the orator. He 
is to repress an undue tendency to ratiocination, by moral deter- 
mination. He is to repress an undue poetic tendency, by m.oral 
determination. He is to repress an undue pathetic tendency, by 
moral determination. And let it not be thought that only a slight 
and feeble exercise of the self-controlling power is needed in the 
origination of this so-styled Virtue ofyEloquence ; that but little 
moral energy and stern force of character is required in order to 
the highest eloquence. How often does it happen that the Ora- 
tion degenerates (for in this reference it is degeneration) into the 
abstract E^say, or the over-ornamented Prose-Poem, solely be- 
cause there was not enough of moral strength, not enough of 
will^ in the orator, to compel all his acquisitions, and all his ten- 
dencies, into subservience of that practical end, the actuation of 
Ills hearers, which is the ultimate end of Eloquence. Often, as 
much self-control is needed to mortify a strong logical propensity, 
in order that it may not dam:^>ge or destroy a rhetorical pro- 
cess, as is needed in order to mortify a lust of the fljsh. And still 
more often, as much force of cliaracter is needed to restrain a lux- 
uriant imagination, in order that it may not clog and stop the on- 



r 



24 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

ward movement of the oration by excessive illustration and orna- 
ment, as is needed in order to restrain an animal passion. In 
short, that vanity, that self-feeling, which would draw off the ora- 
tor from the practical end of his discourse to the undue display 
^ of his logic, if his mind is predominantly philosophic, or to an 
\ undue employment of the poetic element, if his nature is pre- 
\ domlnantly imaginative, requires for its conquest and extirpation, 
■^ precisely the same kind of moral force, force of will, that is 
needed in the suppression of vice, or in the formation of any of 
the strictly so-called virtues. 

Now, it is in this reference that Eloquence is styled a Virtue. 
So far as the principle from which it proceeds, and the impulse 
by which it is impelled, are concerned. Eloquence is Ethical, 
rather than Philosophic, or Aesthetic. It is the position of 
Theremin, that Eloquence is more strictly of the nature of Virtue, 
than of the nature of Science, or of the nature of Fine Art. Its 
essential quality and properties, he contends, are more properly 
ethical than scientific or artistic. Neither a scientific nor an artis- 
tic talent can become the living fountain of Eloquence. Only a 
moral force can. Although both a philosophic and an artistic pro- 
cess properly and necessarily enter into that complex mental ac- 
tion of which Eloquence is the product, yet neither of them is the 
fun dame !ital])rocess. We must look for this in the moral process 
which springs out of the character of the orator; which involves 
his earnestness, his sincerity, his honesty of conviction, his con- 
sciousness of the truth, and his love for it. These moral elements 
must first exist, or there can be no Eloquence. In the same 
sense, then, that the orator, according to Cato and Quintihan, is 
a good man, is Eloquence a Virtue. Not that every good man 
is eloquent, or that every virtue is ipso facto Eloquence (though 
we often eay of the Virtues, as they shine out in human 
character, that they are eloquent) ; but no man is eloquent who 
is destitute of moral force of character, and no discourse is 
eloquent that is not per\aded with a moral earnestness that is 
higher than any mere scientific talent or assthetic feeling. 

The truth which there is in Theremin*s definition may be 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 



25 



seen, again, by considering tlie difference between an Oration 
and a product of Fine Art. According to the theory of Theremin 
Eloquence is not strictly a Fine Art. It is no more one of the Fine 
Arts because it contains an aesthetic element, than it is one of the 
Sciences because it contains a philosophic element. It is taken 
out of the department of mere and pure Art, by the 'practical 
and outward end which it has in view. For if there is any- 
thing settled in the theory of Art, it is, that an aesthetic product 
has no practical end out of itself. Art, as such, has no utility, 
nor morality. Its productions exist for themselves, and not for 
any object other than themselves. We must not go beyond 
them, and look for a practical or beneficial influence exerted by 
them upon the minds of men, in order to decide whether they 
are excellent in their kind or not. Hence Art cannot become 
Religion, or even Morality. If a painting or a sculpture is 
beautiful, we cannot deny it artistic excellence. Whether it is 
useful, or whether it is moral, are questions for Philosophy and 
Religion, but not for Art. The Artist, unlike the Philanthropist, 
or the Orator, works for his own gratification solely. His work 
has no end but the embodiment of a beautiful idea. As an 
Artist merely, he is indifferent to the practical effects that may 
result. The work of Art is addressed solely to the aesthetic 
sense. If it were addressed to the cognitive powers, solely, it 
would be a scientific work. If it were addressed to the moral 
or religious nature, solely, it would be a religious work. 

It is true, indeed, that a production of Fine Art may make 
a moral impression, and as matter of fact the highest works in 
this department invariably do. It is true that the Apollo may 
elevate the soul of the beholder, and the Madonna may soften 
and humanize it, but neither of them, as works of Art, owed 
their origin to any such practical and moral aim. Fine Art is its 
own end. It is self-sufficing, self-included, and irreferent. If it 
has ever contributed to the intellectual or moral improvement 
of man, this was a happy accident, and not a predetermined and 
foreseen result. 

But that Morality, which thus stands in no inward and neces- 

3 



26 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 



sarj connection with Art, constitutes the very essential principle 
of Eloquence. The Oration, unlike a painting or a statue, aims 
to exert a moral influen^'e upon a moral agent. It seeks to 
work a change, more or less deep and extensive, in the state of 
man's active powers, employing his cognitiA^e and imaginative 
faculties as mere means and media. The Orator cannot, like 
the Artist, isolate himself from all outward circumstances, and 
find the goal of his efforts in the serene and complacent embodi- 
ment of his idea in a form of Beauty, without troubling himself 
in the least about the influence he may exert. The Orator is a 
man of moral influence, and of moral impression, upon moral 
agents, or he is nothing. If, then, the term Virtue denotes, 
generally, a product of the will, and not of the intellect merely, 
or the imagination merely, — is not Eloquence a Virtue ? If that 
agency of the soul be virtuous, or of the nature of Virtue, w^hich 
has an outward aim, — the aim, A'iz., to exert a legitimate influ- 
ence upon the character and actions of men, — is not Eloquence 
a Virtue ? Is not this earnest, moral, and practical product of 
the human mind much more properly denominated a Virtue 
than an Art? 

To place the definition given by Theremin in another aspect, 
we may say that Eloquence is an iRtellectual Virtue. It is the 
action of the understanding and imagination, when these are 
under the sway of the moral will. When the understanding 
merely follows its own structure and laws ; when its action is 
unmodified by any reference to an auditor, or to an outward 
impression upon other minds ; the product is Logic, and this 
action of the understanding is scientific. When the imagination 
merely follows its own nature and law, the product is Poetry, 
or some other work of Fine Art, and this action of the mind 
is aesthetic. In both of these instances the mental faculty is left 
to its own guidance and impulse. The will exercises no modify- 
ing influence in either case, and consequently there is no moral 
element, nothing virtuous or of the nature of Virtue, in these 
species of intellectual activity. It is true that the subject matter 
of both Philosophy and Art may be moral, but the mental 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 27 

process itself cannot be so characterized. It is a purely spon- 
taneous process, not deriving its quality in the least from the 
voluntary power, from the character of the individual, or even 
being in the least modified by it. The process in the one 
case is purely logical or scientific, and in the other purely 
artistic. 

But Eloquence has a different origin from either Science or 
Art. It results, not from the isolated action of a particular faculty, 
like the understamiing, or the imagination, but from the interpen- 
etration and cooperation of all the mental powers, under the sway 
and actuation of the voluntary force. The degree in which each 
faculty shall work, as we have already remarked, is fixed by the 
determination of the orator, and the acme of Eloquence is seen 
in the rush, in one resistless volume, of all the cognitive, imagin- 
ative, and pathetic powers in the unity of the moral will. The 
combined action of these powers, in this instance, unlike their 
isolated action in the production of the philosophic Essay, or the 
Poem, is moral, and therefore of the nature of virtue. The will 
interpenetrates the logical and imaginative processes in the mind 
of the orator, and thus renders them ethical. Eloquence in this 
aspect, is seen to be the virtuous action of the human intellect, as 
distinguished from that virtuous action of the isolated human 
will, to which the term " virtue " is more strictly and commonly 
applied. There is voluntary action in both cases, and hence the 
epithet " virtuous " belongs to both ; but in the case of a virtue, 
commonly so called, the action is confined to the will itself, while 
in the case of Eloquence it is action of the will in and hy the 
powers of understanding, imagination, and feeling. The virtue 
of patience, c. g,, is the product of the isolated action of the will, 
just as loglcis the product of the isolated action of the understanding. 
Patience is the product of the will operating upon itself, subdu- 
ing its own restiveness, and therefore is simply a particular habit 
of the will. But the virtue of Eloquence is the product of the 
Avill as it operates upon, and in, other mental faculties, for the 
purpose of exerting an influence upon the will of others. Elo- 
quence is reason and imagination and feeling wrought into a 



28 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

living synthesis by the vitality of a will, — by the force of a 
strong, deep, and earnest character. 

There is less dlfnculty, therefore, in understanding this defini- 
tion of Theremin, and in adopting it, if we do not take the term 
" virtue " in its more limited and common signification, but in 
its widest sense, as denoting a product into which the moral 
strength of the individual, his force of character, enters as the 
fundamental quality. And such we suppose to be the essential 
nature of Eloquence. If we are required to locate it, we think 
there are fewer objections to placing it within the [)ro\'ince 
of practical Ethics, than in that of abstract Science, or in that 
of aesthetic Art. As Theremin affirms, that theory will be 
most successful, will explain most phenomena and exert the most 
beneficial influence upon the student, which assumes that the 
practical and moral element in Eloquence is the fundamental 
and denominating one, and that the philosophic and aesthetic 
elements are subsidiary to this. TVe know that the Ancients, 
from whom it is not generally safe to differ upon subjects like 
the one which we are considering, regarded Eloquence as one 
of the Fine Arts, and assigned it a place in the list along with 
Poetry, and Painting, and Sculpture ; and the Modern world 
has generally acquiesced in their classification. And yet the 
rhetorical treatises of Aristotle, of Longinus, of Cicero, and of 
Quintilian, contain much that is irreconcilable with this theory. 
Unconsciously, the doctrine that Eloquence is at bottom neither 
speculatively philosophic, nor imaginatively aesthetic, but j^rac- 
tically moral, creeps into these treatises, and exerts a modifying 
influence throughout. And it is the merit of Theremin, as it 
seems to us, that he has systematized this ethical view of Elo- 
quence, — that he has organized these materials scattered here 
and there through all the best treatises on the subject, and 
wrought them into the unity of a consistent theory. Instead of 
defining Eloquence to be a Fine Art, and then, under the instinct 
and impulse of good sense and sound feeling, beating off and 
avray from the definition, until it is perfectly apparent that there 
has been a mistake in the outset, and that Eloquence has received 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 29 

a wrong location, this author auirms distinctly that it is not a 
Fine Art, but that it is (for want of a better term) a Virtue. 
Starfing with this position as the basis of his theorj, he is not 
troubled, as were the ancient Rhetoricians, bj a conflict between 
his theory and its detailed unfolding and application. He is not 
compelled to those statements respecting the necessity of charac- 
ter, of integrity and sincerity and earnestness, in the orator, 
the necessity of subjecting everything in the oration to a practi- 
cal outward end, and of subordinating Philosophy and Art them- 
selves to the moral purposes of Eloquence, which are irreconcil- 
able with the definition that makes Eloquence a Fine Art. On 
the contrary, these statements which suggest themselves so 
unconsciously, and spontaneously, as actually to override the false 
theory that has been assumed by the Rhetorician, are merely 
corroborations of the ethical theory of Eloquence. As they 
grow out of it, so they return back into it ; like vigorous shoots, 
which by inarching are made to contribute to the vigor and 
strength of the parent stock. 

The truthfulness of i\\e ethical theory of Eloquence is still far- 
ther evinced, and illustrated, by a consideration of its influence 
upon the Orator. Here its excellence and value appear in plain 
view. Here is the place of its triumph. For even if an oppo- 
nent should be able to make a stand, while discussing the nature 
of the theory itself, and to raise objections that are forcible, and 
difiicult to remove, yet when its practical application, and practi- 
cal influence, comes into consideration, the defender of the theory 
may speak with boldness and confi.lence. He really has the en- 
tire history of the department in his favor. All those forcible 
and impressive statements, in Ancient and Modern treatises upon 
Rhetoric, which lay emphasis upon the moral elements in Elo- 
quence, and in the Orator himself, — statements which fall glow- 
ing from the mind of the theorist, when, having for a moment 
left his speculative theory beliind him, he speaks more from the 
common feeling, and the common sentiment, of mankind at large 
upon this subject, — all such statements, we say, come t.ironging in 
upon the mind, when it is considering the practical influence of 
3* 



80 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 



the theory in question. The advocate of the ethical tlieory 
feels that all these statements legitimately belong to Am, and to 
him alone; that they are but the practical and informal en itncia- 
tion of his own speculative and formal theory. When he hears 
Quintilian define the Orator to be '• an upright man who under- 
stands speaking," he thinks he hears a concrete annunciation of the 
abstract position that "Eloquence is a Virtue," and believes that, 
in the establishment of his theory, he has only applied an affirma- 
tion to Oratory itself, which long ago was applied to the Orator. 
Supponed thus, as he is, by the spontaneous and unbiassed opin- 
ions of theorizers themselves, he is the more confident in his 
belief that the actual application of the ethical theory of Elo- 
quence will only serve to verify it, and its practical influence to 
recommend it, in the very highest degree. 

1. The influence of the ethical theory of Eloquence is most 
excellent, in the first place, upon the studies of the Orator. 

It is the natural tendency of tliat theory of Eloquence which 
defines it to be a Fine Art strictly, to ir olate Oratory from the real 
sciences, and the solid acquirements of the oratoi'. The eye is too 
intently fixed upon Form, and the secondary properties of dis- 
course, because it is assumed that the ultimate end of Eloquence, 
like that of any other Fine Art, is Beauty. The studies of the 
Orator, consequently, will take their main direction from this 
theory, and he will bestow undue attention upon those depart- 
ments of human knowledge, and those species of literature, 
which have more affinity with the idea of the Beautiful, than 
with the ideas of the True and the Good. These higher ideas 
will be made to take a secondary place in his mind, and his cul- 
ture will be characterized more and more by superficiality, ar.d 
lack of vigorous strength. He will become more and moi-e in- 
terested in v/orks of Art; and the lighter forms of Literature, and 
less and less interested in Science, Philo-ophy, and Theology. 

But the natural tendency of that theory of Eloquence which 
regards it as essentially moral rather than aesthetic, which sets 
up for it an outward and practical end, and does not for an instant 
allow it an artistic indifference in respect to an outvv^ard and prac- 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 33 

tical impression, which connects Eloquence far more with the 
ideas of the True and the Good than with the idea of the Beauti- 
ful, — the natural tendency, and strong direct influence, of smcA a 
theory of Eloquence is to promote the graver and higher studies 
in the Orator. The more profound and central powers of the 
mind will be continually exercised, and thus the foundation for a 
powerful and impressive mental activity will be laid. Such an* 
Orator, like Pericles of old, Avill study and meditate upon the 
dark problems of philosophy and religion, and while, like the 
patron of Phidias and the decorator of Athens, he will not by 
any means be indifferent to Beauty and to Art in their proper 
place, he will yet derive that commanding and overwhelming 
eloquence, that Olympian power attributed to the great Grecian, 
from these loftier themes, these more profound departments of 
human inquiry and effort. * 

2. Again, the influence of that theory of Eloquence which re- 
gards it as ethical, rather than either scientific or [Esthetic, is most 
excellent, in respect to the mode^.s of the Orator. 

The general influence of the ethical theory of Eloquence upon 
the taste is to render it strict and pure. The Orator whose mind 
ha^ been moulded by it, naturally selects models from the very 
highest range of Oratory, and thereby feels the very choicest in- 
fluence of the department. His models, consequently, are few 
in number, but they are such as can never be outgrown and left 
behind in his onward progress. A single model like Demosthenes 
contains, for the mind that is prepared for it by a strict and high 
theory of Eloquence, more educational power than myriads of 
inferior models. Such a model is a standard and permanent one. 



''^ Soc. KivSuyevet, 5 &.piaTe, eluoTcos 6 TLepiKXTjs TrdvTcav reXeuraros tls r)]v 
p7)TopiK)iv ysvicrbai. Phacd. Ti 5-)'? ; Soc. Ilucrai ocai /xeydXai Tu>y rex^oliv, 
■apoa'SiovTai a^oXecx'-o-^ kolX jX€TeoipoKoyias (pvcreccs iripi. t6 yap vy\ir]\6vovv 
TovTO ical TO irduTT] TcXeaiovpyiKby eoiKev eVreD^ev iro.S-ey eliUvai' % koX 
TLspLcX'jS Trphs ry ev<pu7]S eluai iKT7]<TaTo. irpoa-rreaiby yap, olfxai, Toiovrep ui/ri 
' Aya^ay op%, fMSTeaipoXoylas iu.Tr?<.7]al^e\s, Koi iirl <pv(7iy vov ts koi avoias acpiK- 
6'^evos {cju d'!] Trepi roy iroKuy Xoyoy iiroielTO 'Aya^ayopas) iyreve^ey e'lAicucreP 
ivl T'QV Ta>y Xoycoy ri^vw '^^ 'ixp6a^opov aWrj. — Pbaedrus, 270. 



82 INTUODUCTORY ESSAY. 

But in order that the first-class models may be apprehended and 
appreciated, a severe taste must have been engendered in the stu- 
dent. He must have been so disciplined by a high theory that 
he has acquired an indifference towards second-rate productions, 
and a positive disrelish for those more glaring and showy quali- 
ties which are found in works that are for a day only, and not for 
all time. He must have attained such an intellectual temper, 
such a style and tone of literary culture, as can find pleasure 
only in those calmer, grander, and loftier efforts which do not so 
much strike and startle by their brilliancy, as develop and stir 
the human soul b}^ their depth, fervor, and power. 

Now, the theory in question tends directly to the production of 
such an intellectual taste in the Orator. It is a high and austere 
theory. It is a theory Avhich checks extravagance, and j^runes 
luxuriance, by subjecting the w^hole oratorical process to the re- 
straints of ethics. It subordinates the beauty of poetr}^, and 
even the truth of philosophy, to the practical ends of morality. 
If there is any danger in the theory, it is in the direction of se- 
verity and intense truthfulness. If there is any error in the 
theory, it is upon the safe side. It cannot be denied that the 
entire influence of it is to induce such mental habits, such mental 
tastes, and such a mental tone, as both prepare the student for a 
genial appreciation of the highest models, and a free and original 
reproduction of them. The mind which has been developed and 
trained by the ethical theory of Eloquence will prefer Demosthenes 
•to Aeschines, Cicero to Hortensius, Massillon to Bossuet, Mirabeau 
to Lamartine, Burke and Fox to Sheridan and Phillips. 

But the excellence of the influence exerted by the theory in 
question, in rendering the taste pure and strict, is seen more par- 
ticularly in reference to current productions, and current styles 
and schools. The principal danger to which the Rhetorician or 
the Orator is exposed, arises from the influence of contemporaneous 
Khetoric and contemporeous Eloquence. Dazzling and brilliant, 
but superficial and transitory, products, always have their day ; 
and during their day, minds that have not been highly trained 
are taken captive by them. Such minds become copyists and 



IXTROnrCTORY ESSAY. 66 

mannerists ; and copyists and mannerists never are, and never 
can be, eloquent. But a pure taste, and a genuine relish for the 
exceLences of those great masters and models which Lke the sun 
are always the same in all ages, is an infallible preservative 
against this pernicious influence of contemporaries. There is a 
strength and reserve in that intellectual character which has been 
for;:ied bv high theories, by the contemplation of grand ideals, 
which no storm of popular applause, no fury of fashion, can 
overcome or exhaust. Such a mind is self-possessed, and self- 
reliant. Such a mind is eagle-eyed, and critical. Such a mind 
calmly stands the glare of false Ehe'oric and false Eloquence, 
while the weak, unarmed eye of the half-educated is dazzled and 
bllnxs. This austere judg.nent, this cljar calm criticism, looks 
by and beyond all the showy and gaudy products that are tem- 
porarily bewitching the popular taste, to those serene, grand, and 
ab.olutely beautiful Forms, the Da majorum gentium, in all the 
great literatures of the Past ar.d the Present, and in them alone 
linds its models, and upon them alone expends its enthusiasm. 

II. Having thus discussed the nature of Eloquence, we pro- 
ceed, in tlie remainder of this Essay, to consider the general nature 
of RJietoric, and particularly its position and injiuence in the 
system of liberal education 

In passing to the consideration of that branch of discipline 
whose object it is to produce and promote Eloquence, we are 
struck in the outset with the fact that it has ever been regarded 
an essential part of a symmetrical system of education. If we 
look into the ancient world, all culture seems to have culminated 
in Rhetoric and Oratory. The whole end and aim of study, 
even in other and higher departments, appears to have been to 
make the educated man a Phetorician, — using the term in its best 
and technical signification. The goal had in the eye, during the 
wliole of his education, by the young Athenian, or the young 
Poman, was the bema or the rostrum. It was thought that unless 
culture enabled the mind to give expression to itself, to reveal 
and embo-ly its knowledge in a form that would impress and influ- 
ence other minds, it M'as Avorthless, Hence even philosophy was 



34 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

made subservient to oratory, as in the example of Pericles, wlio 
studied under Anaxagoras, one of tlie most subtle of the Greek 
philosophers, in order to prepare himself for the practical life of 
a statesman and orator. The walks of the Academy and Lyceum 
led directly to the Agora and the Forum. 

In Grecian and Roman education, consequently, Rhetoric oc- 
cupied a high position. It was not only a distinct department, 
but one of great influence. Genuine rhetorical power, the abil- 
ity to express and impress, was regarded as the last and highest 
accomplishment of the educated citizen. And the same holds 
true, to a considerable extent, of the system of education in 
vogue in the modern world. If Rhetoric, within the last hun- 
dred years, has somewhat sunk down from its former " pride of 
place," it is mainly because of the false view that has been taken 
of its essential nature, and the false method ia which it has been 
tauorht. Durino; the two centuries that succeeded the revival of 
learning, however, its claims were never higher, or more wil- 
lingly allowed. The minuteness of detail, and, we may add, the 
comprehensiveness on the whole of outline, exhibited by the 
rhetorical treatises composed two hundred years ago, are ample 
evidence that then, at least, there was no disposition to under- 
value this branch of discipline. Indeed the over-estimate which 
came to be put upon it, together with the dry and mechanical 
method into which the somewhat formal, and yet substantially 
sound, rhetoric of Aristotle had degenerated, contributed to that 
reaction which followed, and which for the last hundred years has 
led to an under-estimate of the whole dejDartment. Yet Rhetoric 
is still honored in that system of instruction by which the 
modern mind is being educated. Rhetoric is still one branch of 
human learning, one department of instruction ; and v/henever 
it is pursued in the spirit, and by the method, which its own real 
nature and distinguishing characteristics prescribe, it is still found 
to minister to the sound and vigorous development of the 
mind. 

In discriminating the distinctive nature of Rhetoric, and in 
assigning it its position in the curriculum of discipline, it is 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 35 

necessary in the first place to direct attention to that generic 
classification of the sciences which so greatly assists the inves- 
gator in locating any particular one of them. 

Human knowledge may be divided into two grand divisions, 
which very exactly and conveniently distinguish the immense 
variety that enters into this great sum-total. Knowledge is either 
material or formal.* A material department of knowledge is one 
in which the matter is primary, and the form is secondary. A 
formal department is one in which the form is jDrimary, and the 
matter secondary. The material sciences have also been termed 
real sciences, to denote that in them the reality or substance of 
human knowledge is to be found. For the formal sciences are 
not independent, and self-suflicient. They have no positive char- 
acter, no substantial contents of their own, such as the material 
or real sciences have. They derive all the interest and worth 
they possess from their connection with these latter. They 
exist only for these latter ; because the form exists only for the 
substance, the manner for the matter. 

Take those portions of the general department of Philosophy 
which go under the names of Physics and Ethics, as examples 
of branches of material or real knowledge, and consider what 
they contain. Here we have no hollow and empty divisions 
which must be filled up from other divisions in order that they may 
have solidity ; no mere form of knowledge, to be filled up with 
knowledge itself. Natural and Moral Philosophy have each sub- 
stantial contents of their own. The nature and operations of the 



* "All rational knowledge is either material, and contemplates some one 
object, or formal, and is occupied merely Avith the forms of the understand- 
ing, and of tlie reason itself, — with the universal laws of thinking generally 
without regard to the objects of thought. JTormal philosophy is denom- 
inated Logic ; but material philosophy, which has to do with determinate 
obj'ects, and the laws and principles to which they are subjected, is twofold. 
Por these laws are either laws of Nature or of Spirit. Tlie science of the 
first is denominated Phi/sics, that of the latter is Ethics ; the former is also 
termed tlie doctrine of Xature, the latter the doctrine of Morals. " — Kant's 
Practical Reason ( Yorrede.). 



36 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

human mlncl, and of the Divine Mhicl, so far as it is cognizable 
by man, and the laws and principles of the material word, — these 
and such like arc the subject matter of these two subdivisions of 
real science. In whatever direction the moral or natural philoso- 
pher advances, he meets with real entities and essences ; he is occu- 
pied with substantial verities. Truth itself, fact itself, and thought 
itself, is the staple and substance of his investigations. The for7n 
is for him an altogether secondary thing ; the matter is everything. 
He does not ask, " hoio is it ? " but " what is it ? " 

But take again the department of Logic, and we have a branch 
cf formal knowledge. The logician establishes no one particu- 
lar truth, but merely shows how any truth may be established. 
He does not exhibit the actual contents of the human mind, its 
ideas, sentiments, and beliefs, but only those laws of mental acti- 
vity in accordance Avith which these contents are formed. It is 
not the province of Logic to exhibit thought itself, but only the 
process of thinking. Logic generates no fountain of living 
waters ; it merely indicates the channel in which they must flow, 
if they flow at all. In investigating such departments as Physics 
and Psychology, we are occupied with the Heal, — with truths 
that are matters of actual consciousness, or actual intuition; 
with the contents of our own minds. But in studying such a 
subject as Logic, we are occupied with the Formal — with the 
mere abstract notions and forms of the understanding ; with the 
ways in which, rather than the things which, it perceives. 

To see the distinction in question still more clearly, compare 
an entire department like Fine Art with an entire department 
like Science or Religion. The end and aim of Art is to embody 
some Idea in a Form suited to express it. With the nature and 
origin of tills Idea it does not concern itself. It takes it as it finds 
it, and leaves the analysis and investigation of its interior structure 
to the philosopher or the theologian. The artist may, it is true, 
contemplate this subject matter of his Art philo ophically, or 
tlicologlcally, but only in subordination to the purposes of his 
profession ; only in order to be able to clothe tlie Idea in a more 
beautiful Form. He does not, like the votary of the real 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 37 

sciences, rest in the subject matter, being f^atisiied with hanng 
unfolded and developed the truth in his own mhid ; he cannot 
rest until he has given expression to it in an outward emlodi- 
ment. Hence we say that Fine Art is formal in its nature and 
character. It subordinates everything to this its ultimate and 
constituent end. For it, the material is secondary. 

In reference then to this general division of the various de- 
partments of human knowledge and inquiry, Rhetoric is a for- 
mal department. It is the science of Form, ?o far as human 
discourse is concerned. It is an " organic " art, as Milion terms 
it ;^- an art which furnishes the organ or instrument for commu- 
nicating thought most effectively to other minds. Khctoric, 
strictly speaking, is not to supply the matter, the thought itself, but 
is to put the material when supplied into as appropriate and fine 
forms as possible. The thought itself of the iRlietorician nm^t 
be drawn from deeper fountains than those of Rhetoric. If by 
thorough collegiate and professional training he has not first filled 
his mind with the materials for discourse, rhetorical training and 
preparation will only disclose his emptiness. From the mcterial 
departments of human knowledge, from the real sciences, he 
must have first acquired a profound and comprehensive culture, 
before he is qualified to become a Rhetoricii;:i. 

Rhetorical discipline being thus formal in its nature presup- 
poses on the part of the student a preparation for it. It postu- 
lates a full mind and a full heart. It takes the individual at that 
point in his course of education when the materials have been 
originated by other methods of discipline, when they are in a stir 
and fe: mentation, struggling for utterance and demanding an out- 
fiow, and teaches him deliveiy, — teaches him the method of em- 
bodying these conscious and living contents of his mind, in 
rounded and symmetrical forms. If, therefore, Flato had reason 
for writing over the door of his Academy, " let no one who is 
jiot a geometrician enter here," the Rhetorician has equal reason 

* Tract on Education. 



OO INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

for inscribing upon the rostrum, "let no one ascend here, wha is 
not a scholar and a thinker." 

It is of great importance here to observe the fact, that al- 
though Rhetoric is a formal department of knowledge, it must 
not be isolated from the real sciences, either in theory or practice. 
This has been the error in this department for the last century. 
That part of Rhetoric which is termed Invention, — that part 
which treats of the supply of thought, — has been greatly 
neglected in many modern treatises, so that the whole art has 
degenerated into a collection of rules relating to expression, or 
Elocution, merely. The Rhetorician has been too exclusively 
occupied with the externals of his subject. No grand and vital 
Eloquence can originate on a theory which in this manner- separates 
the form from the matter, the style from the thought. As in 
the natural world there is no growth and no fruit except as the 
living principle and the outward form constitute a unity, an iden- 
tity of existence, so in the intellectual world the idea and the 
form in which it is manifested must inhere in each other, and in- 
terpenetrate each other, in order to real excellence of any sort. 
The student cannot therefore cultivate thinking by itself, isolated 
from the expression of his thoughts ; neither can he cultivate 
the expression of thought isolated from the process of thinking. 
Both processes, the philosophical and the rhetorical, must proceed 
pari passu, and simultaneously, and the result be a unity that is 
neither wholly formal nor wholly material in its nature. An ora- 
tion considered as a rhetorical product does not consist of thought 
alone, any more than of expression alone. It is thought and 
expression, matter and form, in one common identity. Pure 
thought, alone and by itself, exists only in the conscious mind. 
Pure form, alone and by itself, exists no where. It is a mere 
notion or abstraction of the understanding, to which there is no 
objective correspondent. A mere form is a ghost, and a ghost 
possesses neither being nor reality. 

Now, by virtue of this intercommunication of Rhetoric with 
all the solid iiiaterial branches of knowledge, it stands mid- 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 39 

way between the pure sciences and the practical arts. It is neither 
wholly speculative, nor wholly practical. It is a most intimate 
and thorough mingling of these two qualities. Rhetoric serves, 
therefore, as a bond of connection between the more abstract 
branches, and the plain practical knowledge of common life. It 
is the mediator between the recondite theories of the philosopher, 
and the simple, spontaneous thinking of the uneducated man. 
What indeed is the orator, or the diseourser generally, but a man 
who stands midway between the schools and the raai-ket place, 
and interprets the one to the other ; a man whose function it is to 
give such an expression to the lore of the learned world, as will 
impress and influence the unlearned v/orld ? Tlie orator, the dis- 
eourser generally, is a middle-man, who brings these two great 
halves, the lettered and the unlettered, together, and thus contri- 
butes to that collision of mind with mind, which is the life and 
soul of human literature, and of human history. For it is this 
communication of thought, which is ever going on, that keeps 
the world alive and stirring. Mere pure thinking, that, never 
found an utterance of itself, by tongue or pen, even if such a 
thing could be, would leave the world as dull and motionless as it 
found it. It is the expressed thought, the luritten or the vocalized 
idea, that stirs and impels the general mind. 

Having, in this brief manner, directed attention to the distinc- 
tion between the formal and real sciences, and havin<? assigned 
to Rhetoric its place among the former, at the same time also 
observing its vital connection Avith the latter, we proceed in the 
remainder of this Essay to specify some of the advantages of 
this method of contemplating the general subject. / 

1 . In the first place, upon this method, the department obtains 
an accurate definition, and is confined to its own just limits. 

There was once a time when Rhetoric was made to include 
vastly more than properly belongs to it ; when indeed it was 
more li'.:e an encyclopredia of all arts and sciences, than a lim- 
ited and specific branch of knowledge. Rhetoric, at one time 
was almost as comprehensive a term as Philosophy is at the 
present day. The effect of this was to distract the mind by a 



40 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

multiplicity of topics, and to preclude that singlcnGi^.s of aim, and 
unitj of pursuit, wliicli is the foundation of all good discourse. 
Such a v.irietj and complexity as ii exhibited by some of the 
mediaeval treatises upon Rhetoric, is destructive of all distinct- 
ness, neatness, and elegance of form. A style formed by such 
an instrument must be in the highest degree loose, rambling, and 
unrhetorical. As matter of fact, tlie composition Avhich v/as the 
fruit of such rhetorical training is generally devoid, not merely 
of true grac(} and ornament but, of the more necessary qualities 
of good writing, perspicuity and vivacity. Sentences are con- 
structed in the most clumsy manner ; involved, parenthetic, and 
incomplete to the last degree ; while the general style of the 
whole is heavy, dragging, and dull. 

The defect in these treatises is the lac^.^ of a close and clear 
definition in the outset, of the nature of the Art itself. It was 
really regarded as a material branch of knowledge ; and hence 
it Avas the duty of the Rhetorician to give positive instruction 
upon nearly all subjects. Inasmuch as the Orator needs ail the 
knowledge he can possibly obtain ; inasmuch as Eloquence can 
successfully employ a greater amount of information than any 
other department, not excepting even that of History; it was 
supposed to be the business of Rhetoric, and of the Rhetorician, 
to furnish it all. Hence the departmi^nt, as we have remarked, 
become virtually an encyclopaedia ; not merely a material 
science, but all material science in one mass ; the oir<m scihile 
itself But such, we have seen, is not its nature. It is strictly, 
and really, a formal science. Its final end is simply to express, 
to communicate, to embody ; and the more rigorously this is 
held to be the essential character of Rhetoric, the finer will 
be the forms and styles of composition that come into existence. 
No sharply-drawn outlines, no distinct definitions, no clean 
and clear developments, no round and full statements, can orig- 
inate from a Rhetoric that is unlimited and undefined in its own 
nature. If Rhetoric includes everything, and is to furnish 
everything, then discourse will contain everything, and be full of 
everything. If, on the other hand, the term is strictly defined, 



rXTRODLXTORY ESSAY. 41 

and the eje of the student is kej^t steadily directed to the produc- 
tion of a pure and noble form, for the materials with which his 
mind has been stored by other sciences, and other disciplines, 
then there will arise " a form and combination indeed," a style 
and manner fit to be a model. 

2. In the second place, this yiew of tho nature and relative 
position of the department of Rhetoric protects it from a lifeless 
formalitv. 

Xo branch of human knowledge is so liable to a dead formal- 
ism as Rhetoric. By its A'ery definition, it is obliged to make the 
form, in distinction from the substance, the appropriate and final 
end of its investigations and instructions. It is not surprising, 
consequently, that this formal and foi'malizing tendency should 
become too strong in the course of time, and that Rhetoric should 
become a feeble and artificial departm.ent, instead of a vigorous 
and creative one. Human nature is hypocritical. Its tendency 
is to the form rather than to the substance ; to the show rather 
than to the reality. This characteristic is not confined to the 
moral side of man's nature. It enters very largely into his intel- 
lectual being. Indeed, the effects of the apostasy are as plainly 
ta be seen in the humnn intellect, as in the human heart. 
What is this formality, this lack of sincerity and genuineness, in 
our mental processes, but the efiect of a corruption that has 
vitiated the mind, as well as the heart ? If we closely examine 
ourselves, we shall find an absence of veracity, of integrity, of 
godly simplicity and sincerity, to be as marked and evident in our 
intellectual, as in our mo: al condition. The whole head is sick. 

Xow, when a department of human knowledge, by its very 
metaphysical nature, and vocation, falls in Avith this corrupt tend- 
ency of man's nature, it is no wonder that its history should be 
marked by degeneracy ; that it should constantly grow more and 
more formal, and ungenuine, in its own nature and influence. 
When the theoretic definition harmonizes vrith the practical bent, 
when high abstract science is in unison with an actual tendency 
of man's nature, it is not surprising that the develop: ;ient, 
unchecked and unmodified by other agencies, should be in the 
4*, 



42 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY." 

highest degree false and fatal. If the blind lead the blind, both 
fall into the ditch. 

The history of Rhetoric, and we may add of the whole 
department of Fine Art, proves and illustrates the truth 
of this remark. We find in every nation which «had an Elo- 
quence, and an Art, one period of fresh powerful talent and 
activity in these departments, and then long periods of feeble, 
formal, and lifeless efforts. The form constantly encroached 
upon the idea, until it crowded it out. The distinction between 
formal and real science become a division, and a separation, so 
that each was pursued alone by itself, to the great injury of the 
former, and to the death and destruction of the latter. Compare, 
e. g-, the eloquence of Demosthenes with the oratory of the 
Sophists. The former proceeds from thought, from truth, as the 
principle of all Eloquence, form and style being moulded and 
determined by it. Tlie latter starts from form and style itself, 
which is continually subjected to a repetition of touches and re- 
touches, without any inward moulding, any living formation ; 

" Like shadows on a stream, the forms of Art 
Impress their character on the smooth surface, 

but no soul 

Warmeth the inner frame." * 

But the view which has been presented of the nature of Rhetoric, 
and of its relation to the whole field of human knowledge and 
inquiry, is preclusive of this besetting bad tendency in the de- 
partment. Wliile recognizing the essentially formal character of 
Rhetoric, and thus giving it a distinct place in the circle of the 
sciences, and thereby confining it within its own limits, it, at the 
same time, directs attention to the deeper soil into which its roots 
must strike, and from which it must derive its nourishment and 
vigor. The Rhetorical training of the student, on this method, 
is concurrent with all his other training, and becomes the medium 
of its communication to other minds. His general culture is 
benefited by his discipline in this direction, for the whole body 

* Schiller altered. 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 43 

of it is set into motion, and action, by every effort to give form 
and expression to it. 

3. It is obvious in the third place, that the view under consid- 
eration imparts an interest to the department of Rhetoric which 
it is entirely destitute of, upon any other theory. 

For, as we have already remarked, no strictly formal depart- 
ment of knowledge is independent and self-snbsistent. If we 
"•onfine ourselves to a mere art, without respect to the more i:)ro- 
found principles that lie under it, our minds soon become weary 
and spiritless. Such is the affinit}- between the human intellect 
and fundamental truth, such is the hungering after substantial 
knowledge and real science, that it cannot be j^ermanently inter- 
ested in any branch of inquiry, or of activity, that does not ulti- 
mately lead it down into these depths. Essential truth is the 
element, and the aliment, of a rational mind, and nothing short 
of this form of truth can long satisfy its wants. Unless, there- 
fore, Hhetorical discipline conducts the mind ultimately to these 
perennial fountains of stimulation and nourishment, it will soon 
become irksome in its nature, and wearisome in its influence. All 
this training in the art of composition will only serve to drink 
up the vigorous juices, and kill out the life of the mind. 

If, on the contrary, Rhetorical study and practice be grafted 
into the vigorous stock of a preexisting culture, if the stu- 
dent come to it with a well-trained and fully informed mind, the 
result of industry and fidelity in the academical, collegiate, and 
professional courses of instruction through which he has passed ; 
then this part of his labor as an educated man will be the most 
interesting and congenial of all We have, perhaps, experienced 
the exquisite pleasure which the intellect feels in the hour of 
vigorous creative production ; the high swelling enthusiasm of the 
mind, as it careers over a field of noble and lofty thought. We 
have, perhaps, experienced that enlargement and elevation of soul, 
v.'liich accompanies the distinct intuition of principles, and a 
firm masterly grasp of them. " The highest joy," says Schiller, 
'• is the freedom of mind, in the living jjlay of all its powers ;" 
anj there is no sphere in which this play of the intellect is co 



44 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

full and so free, as that of authorship, as that of composition. 
None of the other processes in the course of education can com- 
pare with it, for depth and heartiness of interest. The processes 
of memorizing, of comparing, of judging, of analyzing, of com- 
bining, and of close attention, — the processes that occur in the 
classical, mathematical, historical, and philosophical disciplines, — 
are each and all of them inferior in fresh living interest for the 
mind, to the process of original production. In these former in- 
stances, the mind is more passive than active, and but a portion 
of its power is in exercise. But in the act and process of orig- 
inal authorship, the mind becomes a unit and unity, all its pow- 
ers are concentrated into one, and the productive process is a 
most original and vital union of all the knowing, all the feeling, 
all the imagination, and all the moral force of the man. The 
historian Niebuhr, speaking of the historian's vocation, remarks 
that he who calls past ages into being enjoys a bliss analogous 
to that of creating.* With still more truth, may we say of that 
mind which is able, in the conscious awakening of all its pow- 
ers, to give full and satisfactory utterance to its thick coming 
thoughts, that it enjoys the joy of a creator. If there is one 
bright particular hour in the life of the educated man, in the career 
of the scholar, it is that hour for which all other hours of student 

* "I have found," he says in one of his letters, " my former experience 
irresistibly confirmed, that Avith mc the body depends entirely on the mind, 
and that m}^ indisposition almost always arises from some impediment to the 
x"i ee action of my mind, wliich seems to introduce disorder into all the func. 
tions of the bodily machine. "NYhen my mind is exerting itself freely and 
enei-getically upon a great subject, and I advance successfully from one 
point to another, displaying their mutual connection as I proceed, I either 
feel no physical inconveniences, or if they show themselves, they disappear 
again very quickly. Ko man can have a more vivid perception, that crea- 
ting [i. e., authorship] is the true essence of life, than I have derived from my 
internal experience. But if I am altogether restricted to a passive state of 
mind, the whole machine comes to a stop, and my inward discomfort brings 
on an unhealthy condition of body, of which I have an unmistakable out- 
ward sign, in the contrast between the free and strong circulation of the blood 
in the former state, and its irregularity in the latter." — Life and Letters^ 
p. 179. 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 45 

life were made, — that hour in which he gives orisrinal and full 
expression to what has slowly been gendering within him. Xow, 
what this bright hour is to the general life of the educated man, 
Rhetorical discipline and practice is to the sum-total of education. 
If pursued in the right method, and after the proper preparatory 
work has been done, it imparts an interest to general study and 
general culture, such as cannot exist without it. How dull and 
stupid is the hfe of a book -worm; of a mind which passes 
through all the stages of education, except that last and crowning 
one, by means of which it is put into communication v.ith the 
great world of scholars and letters. Such a mind is always des- 
titute of that most interesting and infallible sign of genuine cul- 
ture, enthusiasm. It has done nothing for long years but absorh. 
Knowledge has had the same effect upon its inner fabric and 
structure, which the sweet rains of heaven have u|X)n the rootless 
fallen pine. The noble shaft becomes struck with the sap-rot. 

The history of literature furnishes many examples of men 
whose knowledge only increased their sorrow, because it never 
found an efflux from their own minds into the world. Knowledge 
uncommunicated is something like remoi^e unconfessed. The 
mind not being allowed to go out of itself, and to direct its ener- 
gies towards an object and end greater and worthier than itself, 
turns back upon itself, and becomes morbidly self-i^flecting and 
self-conscious. A studious and reflecting man of this class is 
characterized by an excessive fastidiousness, which makes him 
di satisfied with all that he does himself, or sees done by others ; 
which represses, and finally suppresses, all the buoyant and spir- 
ited activity of the intellect, leaving it sluggi>h as '• the dull weed 
that rots by Lethe's wharf." The poet Gray is an example in 
point. In the instance of this in many respects highly inter- 
estmg literary man, the acquisition of culture far outran the ex- 
T-ression and communication of it. The scholar overlaid the 
a:;lI:o:\ Even the comparatively few attempts which this mind 
made to embody its thoughts were hampered by its excessive 
in-ro;pection. Had Gray thrown himself out with freedom and 
boldness upon the stream of original production, which might 



46 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

have been made to flow [from liis richlj-endowed and richly in 
formed mind, he would have been stronger, greater, and happier 
as a literary man. Neither would his productions have lost that 
perfection of symmetry, and elaborate hard finish which they ex- 
hibit ; while at the same time they would have had breathed 
into them that warm breath of life, which they do not now pos- 
sess, and for the lack of which no mere art can ever compensate. 
Certain it is that a closer, warmer contact with the mind of his 
age, through a more daring and exuberant authorship on his part, 
would have imparted a spring and buoyancy to the literary char- 
acter of Gray, which would have rendered it a far more influen- 
tial and interesting one than it now is. 

As an example of the freshening and invigorating influence of 
the constant and free communication of thought upon the intel- 
lect, take the late Sir Walter Scott. His mind was one of the 
healthiest, and most robust, that we meet with in the history of 
literature. It was also one of the happiest, the most free from 
morbid exercises and activities. Something was undoubtedly due 
to its native structure, but very much was owing to those habits 
of authorship which it early acquired, and long kept up. 
Suppose that Scott had immured himself in his library, had 
given free play to his acquisitive and antiquarian tendencies, 
without developing and using his originating and productive tal- 
ent, can we suppose that his intellect would have been that 
warm, breezy, sunny spot that it always was ? It is true that he 
finally broke his powers doAvn, by attempting the Herculean task 
of rescuing the great publishing house with which he had become 
connected from bankruptcy ; but this dead lift of the mental 
powers is not what we are speaking of. It is the moderate, and 
uniform, yet free and bold expression of the thoughts of an 
educated mind, in distinction from the dull, lethargic, uniform 
suppression of them, of which we are speaking, and for which 
we are pleading. 

In this way, the ethical theory of Rhetoric, while resulting in 
a practical and energetic Eloquence, exerts a vivifying influence 
upon the entire culture of the student. It gives employment to 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY, 47 

the sum total of his acquisitions, instead of permitting it to re- 
main idle in his mind. It elaborates and uses^ for the purposes of 
popular instruction and impression, all the material with which 
the mind is filled, instead of allowing it to remain a lifeless mass, 
a caput mortuum, by itself Mathematical, classical, historical, 
philosophical, and theological knowledge, instead of being held in 
the memory from a mere feeling of vanity, is set to work from a 
sense of duty. The Rhetoric of the man has affinities with the 
scholarship of the man. It is homogeneous with it. It moulds 
it, and embodies it. For the Rhetorician, upon this theory, and 
under this training, is not one in whom two distinct disciplines 
exist side by side, with no interpenetration. He is not at one 
time a dull sluggish recipient of knowledge, and at another a 
dull formal communicator of knowledge ; discharging two func- 
tions which in him have no connection with each other. He is 
at all times a genial and vital receiver, and a genial vital com- 
municator. It was once said of a famous jurist, that his know- 
ledge had passed out of his memory into his judgment. AVe 
may say of the genuine Rhetorician, that his knowledge is con- 
tinually passing out of his passive into his active nature. It 
enters into the circulation of the soul, and becomes vitalized by its 
living currents. The Scholar and the Orator are not separated 
from each other, but constitute one living personality. 

But what an energy is imparted to culture, by a training that 
thus tasks to the utmost for acquisitions, and then vivifies those ac- 
quisitions to the utmost in order to popular oratorical impression ! 
It is safe to say that the literature of a nation is vigorous and alive, 
only in proportion as it has oratorical elements in it ; and that the 
very height of its living energy appears in its Eloquence and 
Oratory. What other portion of Greek literature throbs with 
such intense life as the speeches of Demosthenes .'' If there be 
any of the vis vivida vitae in Roman literature, that literature 
which, unlike all others, was born old, and never exhibits any of 
the morn and liquid dew^ of youth, — if there be anj^ fresh vital 
force in Roman letters, is it not to be found in the orations of 
Cicero ? And where, in the modern world, do the most vehement 



48 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 

and passionate energies of the human intellect expatiate and 
career, if not in the vastly Avidened arena of political and sacred 
Eloquence, — if not on that theritre Avhere the active, practical 
interests of man for time and for eternity come up for discussion 
and decision ? 

The importance of a high and philosophic theory of Eloquence 
and Oratory, when considered in its bearings upon the educati>)n 
of the American mind, is plain and great. The American is 
sensitive to Eloquence, and is inclined to be influenced by the 
Rhetorician and Orator more than by the Poet or the Philoso- 
pher. We are in our youth as a nation ; in that forming period 
which in Grecian, in Homan, and in English history, is marked 
by the ballad and romance literature. Unlike our predecessors 
we have not been much influenced by these lighter and im- 
aginative species, but even in our infancy have sought a" manlier 
diet. " We affect Eloquence and 0:atory, rather than the Bal- 
lad and the Eomance. If we compare the literature of America 
with that of Europe, for the last seventy-five years, we find 
that our success has been altogether greatest in this department. 
During this period we have produced no Poetry equal to that 
of England, no Philosophy equal to that of Germany, and 
no Science equal to that of France. But the most unwilling 
admirer must acknowledge that we have produced a body of 
Eloquence and Oratory which, taken as a whole, is superior to 
anything in contemporaneous English or Continental Eloquence. 
The eloquence called out in the debates upon the adoption of the 
Constitution, and all along down from that time to the present, in 
expounding and defending it ; the panegyrical eloquence of the 
country elicited by the commemoration of great events, or of 
patriotic men ; nay even the ruder and less elaborate efforts in- 
cident to the political contests that occur so often : all these 
have tailed out, within the period of the last seventy-five years, 
in the republican States of America, a body of oratorical litera- 
ture with which nothing could so successfully compare, as that 
which was called forth, (but which has not been handed down), 
in the Democracies of Greece, from the time when the Olympian 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 49 

Pericles thundered in the Agora, to the time when Demosthenes \ 
sucked the poisoned quill. ■ 

The American mind ought therefore to be under the influence 
of a high theory, and a strict taste, in order that this tendency 
may receive its very best education ; and in order that American 
Eloquence may continue to be characterized, as it has been, by 
solid and sterling qualities. The national mind, thus far, has been 
too seriously occupied with great interests, to become meretricious 
in its Rhetoric and Eloquence. The Revolution that established 
liberty and the government, was no time for an inflated and bom- 
bastic display. Energy and thoughtfulness characterize our fa- 
vorite and model orators. But peace, and prosperity, and perfect 
security, relax the mind and its tlieories There is some danger 
that the form outrun the substance; that congressional debates, 
that judicial, panegyrical, and sacred Eloquence, all of them 
become less truthful and forceful in their character, while they 
become more florid and dazzling. 

What better corrective, then, can there be, than a good educa- 
tional theory, upon the whole subject, in both the individual and 
the j)ublic mind ; in both the auditor and the orator ? If audi- 
ences are intolerant of a Rhetoric that separates the form from 
the material, the style from the tliought, the public speaker will 
know it, and act accordingly. If the auditor insists that Elo- 
quence have a soul of truth, and of thought, within it, the orator 
will yield, and become a more thoughtful man, that he may min- 
ister to the public want. The result will be a Rhetoric and an 
Oratory that first patiently accumulates knowledge, and then thor- "\ 
oughly elaborates it, for the purposes of popular instruction and 
impression, — an Eloquence 

''not like those rills from a height 
Which spaikle and foam, and in vapor arc o'er ; 
But a current that Avorks out its way into light 
Through the filtering recesses of thought and of lore." 

5 



;i , aUiU c^w^^^ A.<u/ cia.a-j 



f^ 



L-. :^' \t., (UM^^^^^^ -- 



ELOQUENCE A YIETUE. 



BOOK I. 

ON INVENTION. 
CHAPTER I. 

DESIGN AND USE OF THE PROPOSED INVESTIGATION. 

It has often surprised me that, while in modern times 
the theory of the Fine Arts, and especially of Poetry, 
has reached so high a degree of clearness and complete- 
ness, Rhetoric still consists of unconnected principles, 
and is not competent either to guide the practice of Elo- 
quence by sure rules, or to give satisfactory information 
with respect to the nature and qualities of the subject of 
which it treats, — of Eloquence itself Hence it has 
seemed to me not to be a superfluous attempt to endeavor 
to represent the gift of Eloquence as one of the funda- 
mental powers of man, and to derive its laws from one 
of the higher philosophical sciences, so that everything 
uncertain and mutable may disappear from the theory as 
well as the practice of it. 

I must, indeed, fear that such an undertaking w411 ap- 
pear useless to many, and that I shall be asked, " What 



52 



is gained by theories generally ? Has all the philoso- 
phizing upon Art, in modern times, produced a more 
beautiful bloom of Poetry ? Did not Eloquence attait 
its highest perfection among the ancients, although probe 
bly among them, as among us, its highest principle either 
remained unknown, or, at least, never distinctly presented 
itself to the orator ? Only by means of rules which were 
drawn from experience, and which had respect to indi- 
vidual particulars in the formation of the oration, only 
by means of a constant practice which began in earliest 
youth and never ceased, and not by means of general 
theories, did Demosthenes and Cicero form themselves ; 
only by means of a similar discipline, and not by means 
of text-books, can Eloquence, which has sunk so very 
low among us, be raised up, if indeed it is to be raised 
up at all." 

These objections would be perfectly well founded, if 
Eloquence, since the establishment of the Christian 
Church, had not appeared in a form entirely unknown to 
the ancients, and one to which we are obliged to have 
special reference. The political and civil relations amidst 
which, exclusively and alone, Eloquence appeared among 
the ancients, were sufficient of themselves to secure it 
from deviations from the true course, and to render more 
precise theories unnecessary. For him who spoke be- 
fore the court, or in the popular assembly, upon a matter 
which would be decided immediately upon the close of 
his oration, the effect was the surest proof whether he 
had spoken well or not ; and when the highest personal 
interests were at stake, it was very natural that the 
orator should call forth all his powers in order to succeed, 
and that he would learn to understand and avoid those 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 53 

faults which might draw after them the loss of wealth, 
influence, life, and freedom. The sacred orator, on Ihe 
contrary, stands in a relation to his hearer, and treats of a 
subject, which does not allow of such decisive proof. 
Whether he has instructed, edified, improved, or has 
merely superficially pleased and moved his hearer, the 
effect of his sermons can very seldom inform him, since 
this, from its very nature, remains concealed in the mind, 
and almost never comes into sight. Since, therefore, he 
is not, like the orator before the court and in the popular 
assembly, impelled towards the prescribed end by a press- 
ing danger ; since he is not shut up within such narrow 
limits which render deviation to the ris^ht or left almost 
impossible, he runs the greatest risk of error, if without 
settled theory and principles. He must be able to give 
the most accurate account, to his own mind, of all that 
he does, and that deeper insight into the principles of 
Eloquence, which the ancient orator did not need, is in- 
dispensable to him. 

Moreover, many are of opinion that Eloquence, which 
in Greece and Rome reached so high a degree of perfec- 
tion, disappeared from the earth with the destruction of 
ancient freedom, and never again found its home upon 
it. According to this opinion, Eloquence is therefore less 
an original impulse in man, than Poetry ; it is a creature 
of circumstances, by which it is not only more or less 
favored, but is produced and destroyed; the republican 
constitutions of antiquity were necessary to its develop- 
ment; and now, when social life, the spirit of the age, 
and the form of government, are so entirely different, 
that which we call Eloquence is either utterly unworthy 
of this name, or is only the mere shadow of that ancient 

5* 



54 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

powerful faculty. * Whether this opinion is well found- 
ed or not, can be known only after such an investigation 
as we are intending to institute. If we do not succeed 
in showing that Eloquence is one of the fundamental 
powers in man, this opinion will stand unassailed, and 
whoever in modern times thinks himself to be an orator 
must simply give up his pretensions. But if we do suc- 
ceed, and do actually point out a particular original 
power, whose development in a certain direction neces- 
sarily produces Eloquence, then Eloquence is no longer 
the ephemeral bloom of a particular age ; and although 
it may conceal itself, and sometimes may appear under 
another name, it nevertheless lives a life just as real and 
forceful, in modern, as in ancient times. 

Finally, there are men — and men, too, highly distin- 
guished for learning and science — who set a very low 
estimate upon Eloquence, and would have nothing to do 
with it. For, in their opinion, it is perfectly clear that its 
purpose is to excite the feelings, which is always useless, 
and sometimes even injurious ; nay. Eloquence com- 
monly carries its pretensions still further, and, in the best 
orators, it is the design plainly prominent, and even ac- 
knowledged by themselves, to master the heart, to rule 
the will, and turn it whithersoever they wish. But this, 
from its very nature, whatever be the manner in 
which it is done, is not at all compatible with the rela- 
tions in which man stands to his fellow-man, and is there- 
fore, strictly considered, contrary to morality ; and the 
more so, from the fact, that commonly the orator makes 
use of cunning and deceptive tricks of art, rather 

* Magna ista et notabilis eloquentia , . . quae in bene constitutis 
civitatibus non oritur. — De Ccms. Corr. Eloq., c. 40. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 55 

than honorable weapons. In their opinion, we should 
address Ihe understanding alone, and satisfy it by means 
of stringent arguments ; ail excitement of the feelings, and 
influencing of the will, were better omitted. This class 
of opponents, as has been remarked, is a very important 
one ; at its head stand names of distinction, — Aristotle* 
among the ancients, Kantf among the moderns ; their 
objections have the very strongest appearance of truth, 
and as yet have not been answered in a satisfactory man- 
ner by any of the modern advocates of Eloquence, who 
have made far too little of them. But this question also, 
whether there is anything contrary to morality in the at- 
tempt to acquire mastery over the minds of others, can 
be decided only by means of such an investigation as we 
contemplate. For, should it actually turn out to be im- 
possible to derive each and all of the rules of Eloquence 
from one and the same fundamental principle ; if the 

* 'AAA.' o\7js Ovaris Trpos Bo^av Trjs irpayixamias ttjs Trepl rrju ^7jTopiKi]Uy 
ovx ws op^ws exoj'Tos, aAA.' us avayKaiov tV eTrt/^eAemi' TrotrjTiov. 

Rlietor., Lib. Ill, c. 1. 

t I must confess that, while a beautiful poem always gives me pure plea- 
sure, the perusal of the best orations of the popular orators of Home, or 
the pai'liamentary or pulpit orators of the present time, is always accompa- 
nied with the disagieeable feeling of disapprobation towards a cunning art 
which understands how to move men like machines, to a judgment which, 
upon calm after-thought, must lose all its worth with them. Oratory, con- 
sidered as the art of making use of the weaknesses of men, for its own pur- 
poses, (be these never so well meant, or be they actually good, as they are 
always intended to be,) is worthy of no respect at all. — Kritik der Urtheils- 
kffiff, p. 202. Rosexh-anz's Ed. 

It is also said of Eloquence, in the Dialogue De Cans Corr. Eloq., c. 40, that 
it is '• alumna liccntiffi. quani stulti lihertatem vocabant. comes seditionum, ef- 
frcnari populi incitamentum, sine obsequio, sine servitute, contumax, temera- 
ria, adrogans." 



66 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

theory of Eloquence should be found to consist only of 
some maxims derived from experience and observation, 
which can be brought together under no unity, this would 
certainly be a very strong presumption against it. The 
impossibility of constructing its fundamental principles 
philosophically, would greatly lower it, and would throw 
it into the same class with other abilities of an ambigu- 
ous nature, in relation to which this same thing occurs, — 
with Prudence, Skill, Hypocrisy, or, in the phrase of Pla- 
to,* with the art of Cookery. If, however, we succeed 
in laying down an all-comprehending principle as the 
ground of Eloquence, it will then appear of itself, wheth- 
er this is good or bad ; although Eloquence would be 
acquitted of all charges on the score of being contrary to 
morality, from the mere philosophical form of its theory, 
since that which depends upon a fundamental power of 
man cannot possibly contradict his moral sense. 

* Platonis Gorgias ed. Heindorf, p, 53. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 57 



CHAPTER II. 

ELOQUENCE IS NOT AN INTERMEDIATE BETWEEN POETRY 
AND PHILOSOPHY. 

Three different characteristics of Eloquence attract no- 
tice immediately upon the first examination. First, it is 
evident that ElcKiuence seeks to separate the true from 
the false, and to satisfy the understanding by argument. 
The powerful enthymemes of Demosthenes, ihe assertion 
of Aristotle that Eloquence is akin to Dialectics, and 
Cicero's aflirmation that he had made himself an orator, 
not in the schools of the Rhetoricians, but in the walks 
of the Academy,* testify plainly enough to the affinity of 
Eloquence with Philosophy. Sc^condly, Eloquence ap- 
proximates to Poetry also, through the liveliness of i:s 
representations, and the use of turns and figures which 
are similar to those of Poetry. Bat, thirdly, Eloquence 
is distinguished from Philosophy as well as Poetry by 
the outward end after which it strives, — by that mastery, 
over minds, which it does not quietly wait for, but ob- 
tains by a struggle, and by the innumerable references 
which must be regarded in such a striving, and which are 
entirely foreign to Philosophy as well as Poetry. 

Characteristic marks of three kinds, therefore, are to be 
found in Eloquence: 1. An affinity with Philosophy; 

* Fnteor me oMiO"cni iiou ex rhetoruni officinis, sed ex acadeniias spatiis 
extitispe. — Qrafor, c. 3. 



58 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

2. An affinity with Poetry ; 3. A striving after an out- 
ward end. In order to find a fundamental principle of 
Eloquence, one of these three characteristics must be 
made predominant; for they cannot exist beside each 
other in equal dignity. Should it be affirmed that the 
Beautiful and the True, which in Poetry and Philosophy 
are principal, in Eloquence appear as adjuncts and sub- 
servient to outward ends, the difficulty is not yet remov- 
ed ; for the question ever returns, — What is the laiv ac- 
cording to which the True and the Beautiful may be used 
for the attainment of outward ends ? So long as this is 
not given. Eloquence has not found its highest funda- 
mental principle. 

If we take our stand upon that point of view, where 
Eloquence appears as something fluctuating between 
Philosophy, Poetry, and mere Skill, the theory projected 
in accordance with this view cannot satisfy the philoso- 
pher ; and just as little will it be a sure guide for the pu- 
pil in oratory. 

First, the teacher says to him, " You must select a sub- 
ject, and must endeavor to treat it fundamentally." This 
he does in- all faithfulness, and thus, imperceptibly, there 
arises under his hands a philosophic essay. " This is 
good for nothing," says the teacher; " where is the rising 
sweep, the life, the poetic ornament, by which these truths 
are to make an entrance?" This censure seems just to 
him, and he now throws himself into the other extreme, 
and that which he produces is the most disagreeable of 
all caricatures, — poetic prose. Having once more failed, 
it is now said to him, " You discourse as if you were alone 
by yourself, with no hearers before you, into whose cir- 
cumstances, into whose way of thinking, you must en- 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 59 

ter ! " Who will find fault with the pupil, if at this point 
he falls into a sort of desperation, and addresses his 
instructor somewhat after this manner: "In Heaven's 
name ! what is it that you require of me ? Am I to 
unite, in one, three things entirely different from each 
other: philosophic profundity, poetic ornament, and ref- 
erence to an outward end ? Tell me, first, if this union 
is possible ; and, if it is, then give me the higher princi- 
ple under which three so different requisitions can be 
brought into one; show me the rule which determines 
how much I may concede to the subject-matter, how 
much to beauty of form, how much to the hearer, in or- 
der that each may coexist with all, and that an unlucky 
preponderance may not oscillate from one side to another. 
For I can now no longer cast my work in an old form, 
without troubling myself about the wherefore, without 
asking myself why that which I produce must look pre- 
cisely thus, and whether it might not look entirely differ- 
ent ; I wish in my oration, from beginning to end, to see 
the necessity of every single part. So then show me the 
principle which groups all others under itself, and from 
which all rules readily derive themselves." 



60 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 



CHAPTER TIL 

ELOQUENCE IS NEITHER POETRY NOR PHILOSOPHY. 

If, therefore, one of the three characteristic marks of El- 
oquence is to be made the fundamental one, it might be 
supposed that its affinity with Poetry is the one, and that 
the same fundamental principle which reigns in the rep- 
resentations of Poetry, must also guide in the practice 
of Oratory. But this would pre-suppose that Eloquence 
give up its striving after an outward end, as something 
incompatible with Poetry, which it cannot do without 
renouncing its own nature and peculiarity; or else that 
Poetry adapt itself to tliis striving, and to all the refer- 
ences connected with it, which is equally impossible. 

When Poetry clothes its ideas in forms, it can demand 
nothing more than the perception and acknowledgment 
that the idea is perfectly suited to the form, and the form 
to the idea ; its design can never be to implant the ideas, 
which it has wrought out with such ])leasure to itself, in 
another mind ; the one process would injure the other; 
in the two-fold eflbrt to exhibit his own mind and to 
work upon the mind of another, the Poet would succeed 
in neither. Indeed, nothing is so very much suited to 
produce the feeling of displeasure and disgust as an ora- 
tion overloaded with poetical ornam(Mit ; we pity the ig- 
norance which selects means so unsuitable for its ends ; 
we are indignant at the profanation which would force 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHIETORIC. 61 

Poetry to subserve such outward ends. Eloquence, there- 
fore, cannot be regarded as a part of Poetry. 

But, secondly, is it not possible to make the Philosoph- 
ic element in it the fundamental principle of Eloquence ? 
Since in Eloquence, as in Philosophy, ideas are presented 
in a certain sequence and in a certain connection, its co- 
incidence with the art of Philosophizing might be so 
great as that it should fall into this and constitute only a 
part of it. But here the very obstacle which rendered 
the union of Eloquence with Poetry impossible, shows 
itself again, — that striving, namely, after an outward 
end, which is just as essential to Eloquence as it is for- 
eign to Philosophy. Philosophy can recognize no other 
law by which its representations are to be guided, than 
that which lies in the ideas themselves ; these ideas them- 
selves are simply to come forth in their greatest possible 
clearness, and in their greatest possible compass. The 
problem of Eloquence, on the contrary, is to gain over to 
its ideas a mind thus or thus disposed. The laws which 
Philosophy follows in its representations cannot therefore 
be the highest and sole rales of Eloquence, since, besides 
these, it has still others to obey which are imposed upon 
it by the outward end after which it strives. 

This truth is of the greatest importance for the success 
of our investigation, and I must call attention to it the 
more, since from the great tendency of the Germans to 
Philosophizing, it is certainly to be feared that it will 
meet with opposition from many of my readers. " Is 
not," it may be objected, " this profound and powerful 
development of ideas, which is the essential element in 
the Philosophic representation, itself also the most infal- 
lible means of making an entrance for these ideas into 

6 



62 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE *, OR, 

the minds of others, and thus of fulfilling all the requisi- 
tions of Eloquence ?" Let one make this attempt, but 
let him make it with thoroughness, without suffering 
himself to be diverted by circumstances from the purpose 
once fixed upon. Let one lose himself entirely in the 
idea ; let him develop it in its whole compass ; let him 
not omit even the least of all that can serve to exhibit it 
still more clearly ; let him forget, as is fitting, the place 
where he stands; let him confine himself to no definire 
time, but speak until his subject is exhausted ; let him 
not trouble himself about his hearers, about the degree 
of their culture, about their capacities, qualities, prejudi- 
ces, and inclinations ; in a word, let him seek only to ex- 
press his own mind, — will such a discourse be adapted 
to gain over an opposing mind and to transfer the senti- 
ments of the orator into his hearers ? I think not. 
Hence no one who refers the Rhetorical manner and 
method to the Philosophical, is able in his practice to re- 
main true to his theory. Imperceptibly he concedes 
something to time, to place, to the occasion, to the hear- 
ers ; and thus there arises a product which is neither Phil- 
osophical nor Rhetorical, and which can satisfy no one 
who is accustomed to judge of things with strictness. 

If I understand it rightly, Aristotle makes this attempt, 
which must ever be a failure, to connect Eloquence with 
the art of Philosophizing, in order to obtain a simple, 
firm, constituent principle for it. In the very beginning 
of his work he lays down the position that Eloquence is 
akin to Dialectics, and it seems as if all is to be derived 
from this, and that Rhetoric is in this way to acquire a 
scientific unity. But this first assertion compels him to 
a second, by which Eloquence becomes strangely limited 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 63 

in its sphere. " In Eloquence," he says, " which depends 
upon Dialectics, the arguments are the only thing per- 
taining to the art, and it should, properly, confine itself 
simply to showing whether a thing has or has not hap- 
pened. It is owing to the imperfection of governments 
alone, that Eloquence has introduced the ideas of Jus- 
tice and Injustice into its sphere, and assumes to excite 
the feelings." Now, it would be interesting to see \vhat 
sort of a Rhetoric would have arisen, if Aristotle had 
strictly maintained and carried out this principle ; but 
whether it was because an Eloquence so narrowly limited 
did not satisfy him, or because he felt himself obliged to 
take Eloquence as he found it in actual existence, he lets 
the principle drop again immediately. Hence we are not 
a little surprised to see how soon he is no longer content 
with the purely dialectic arguments, but, besides these, 
calls in those means of persuasion also which lie in the 
moral state of the orator and in the inward condition in- 
to which the hearer has been brought. But, in order to 
the apprehension of these, Dialectics no longer suffices ; 
the knowledge of the virtues and the affections is requi- 
site for this, and Aristotle finds himself compelled to the 
acknowledgment that Eloquence is no longer akin to 
Dialectics alone, but also to the Ethical science called 
Politics. Thus he gets a fundamental principle having 
a two-fold nature, and destructive of all scientific uni- 
ty, — a quality, moreover, that is not to be met with again 
in the whole work. 



64 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 



CHAPTER, IV. 

ELOQUENCE IS A VIRTUE. 

Since, therefore, Rhetoric cannot acquire a scientific 
form, if Eloquence is to be regarded as a fluctuating in- 
termediate between Poetry and Philosophy; and since, 
furthermore, it cannot be subordinated eirher to Poetry 
or Philosophy, there is only one way left to find its high- 
est fundamental principle, if it has one, namely, to 
examine the third of the characteristic qualities noticed 
in it, the striving- after an outward end, and to see if it 
will not lead to a firm fundamental principle. 

Production in Poetry and Philosophy is a species of 
activity which may be denominated the isolated, or that 
which retreats into itself again. For it simply unfolds 
an idea, and in the process has no other end but this idea 
and its unfoldin£2:. That which has been formed in this 
way can, indeed, like all that exists, exert an outward in- 
fluence ; yet it never owes its origin to the design of 
exerting such an influence. 

There is another species of activity, which always aims 
at an outward change, either in the sentiments and con- 
duct of individual men, or in the social and family rela- 
tions, or in the civil and ecclesiastical. Now, to this 
species of practical activity — the sum-total of which 
constitutes social life — Eloquence also belongs ; and it 



OUTLINES OP A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 65 

is SO entirely implicated in the circumstances existing at 
the particular time, that even in thought it cannot be 
separated from them. For although it is easy enough in 
the case of a tragedy of Sophocles, to contemplate it as 
something existing for itself, and to think of it as sepa- 
rated from all the social and civil relations of the poet, 
such a separation in the case of an oration of Demos- 
thenes cannot be so effected in the least degree. Nothing 
in it is an isolated piece of art ; nothing can be torn out 
from the web of circumstances in which it was spoken ; 
only in connection with these does it constitute a unity, 
which again was nothing but an act^ a point in the po- 
litical career of the orator. "When the ancient orators 
appeared, their discourse was an action* in the strictest 

* " True Eloquence, indeed," says Webster, " docs not consist in speech. 
Patriotism is eloquent ; self-devotiou is eloquent. The clear conception 
outrunning the deductions of logic, the liig!i purpose, the firm resolve, 
the dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye. inform- 
ing every feature, and urging the wliole man onward, right onward, to his 
object, — this is eloquence ; or rather it is sometliing greater and higher than 
all eloquence, — it is action, noble, sublime, godlike action." 

Bolinghroke has noticed this implication of Eloquence, with the active and. 
practical circumstances in the midst of which it takes its rise, in a passage 
which is worthy of being quoted, not less because he had no theory lo sup- 
port, than because of its masculine vigor and force. " Eloquence," he re- 
marks, " has charms to lead mankind, and gives a nobler superiority than 
power, that every dunce may use, or fraud, that every knave may employ. 
But eloquence must flow like a stream that is fed by an abundant spring, 
and not spout forth like a frothy water on some gaudy day, and remain dry 
the rest of the year. The famous orators of Greece and Rome were the 
statesmen and ministers of those commonwealths. The nature of their gov- 
ernments, and the humor of those ages, made elaborate orations necessary. 
They harangued oftener than they debated ; and the ars dicendi required 
more study and more exercise of mind, and of body, too, among them, than 
are necessaiy among us. But, as much pains as they took in learning how 
to conduct the stream of eloquence, they took more to enlarge the fountain 
from which it flowed. Hear Demosthenes, hear Cicero, thunder against 

6* 



66 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

and most common signification of the word ; an ac'ion 
that was none the less worthy of the name, and none the 
less powerful, because they made use of speech instead 



Philip, Catiline, and Antony. I choose the example of the first, rather than 
that of Pericles, whom he imitated, or of Phocion, whom he opposed, or of 
any other coasideniblc personage in Greece ; and the example of Cicero 
rather than that of Crassus, or of Hortensias, or of any other of the great 
men of Rome ; because the eloquence of these two has been so celebrated, 
that Ave are accustomed to look upon them almost as 7nere orators. They 
were orators indeed, and no man who has a soul can read their orations, aftcr 
the revolution of so many ages, after the extinction of the governments and 
of the people for Avlioni they were conposed, without feeling, at this hour, 
the passions they were designed to move, and the spirit they were designed 
to raise. But if we look into the lustory of these two men, and con- 
sider the parts they acted, we shall see them in another light, and admire 
them in a higher sphere of action. Demosthenes had been neglected, 
in his education, by the same tutors who cheated him of his inheritance. 
Cicero was bred with greater advantage, and Plutarch, I think, says, that 
when he first appeared, the pco})le used to call liim, by way of derision, the 
Greek, and the scholar. But Avhatevcr advantage of this kind the latter 
might have over the former, and to which of them soever you ascribe the 
superior genius, the progress which both of them made in every pari; of po- 
litical knowledge, by their industry and application, was marvellous. 
Cicero might be a better philosopher, but Demosthenes was no less a 
statesman : and both of them performed actions, and acquired fame, above 
tlie reach of eloquence alone. Demosthenes used to compare eloquence to 
a Aveapon, aptly enough ; for eloquence, like every otlier Aveapon, is of 
little use to the owner, unless he have the poAvcr and the skill to use it. 
This force and skill Demosthenes had in an eminent degree, ObserA^c tlicm 
in one instance among many. It Avas of mighty im])ortance to Philip, to 
prevent the accession of Thebes to the grand alliance that Demosthenes, at 
the head of the Athenian commonwealth, formed against the groAving poAA'cr 
of the Macedonians. Philip had his emissaries and ambassadors on the 
spot, to oppose to those of Athens, and Ave may be assured that he neglected 
none of those arts upon that occasion, that he employed so successfully on 
others. The struggle Avas great, but Demosthenes prevailed, and the 
Thebans engaged in the Avar against Philip. Was it by his eloquence alone 
that he prevailed in a divided State, over all the subtilty of intrigue, all the 
dexterity of negotiation, all the seduction, all the corruption, and all the 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 67 

of limbs, weapons, or other instruments. Nay, even 
in onr unrhetorical times, if -one were to regard the 
discourses of a sacred orator as a series of little separate 



terrors, that the ablest and most powerful prince could employ ? "W^as De- 
mosthenes Avholly taken up "with composing orations, and haranguing the 
people in this remarkable crisis 1 He harangued them, no doubt, at '1 liebes, 
as woLl as at Athens, and in the rest of Greece, -where all the great resolu- 
tions of making alliances, -waging -war, or concluding peace, -were determined 
in democraiical assemblies. Eu: yet haranguing was, no doubt, the least 
part of his busmess, and cloqusncc was neither the sole nor the principal 
talent, as the style of writers would lead us to believe, on which his success 
depended. He must have been master of other arts, subserviently to which 
his eloquence Avas employed ; and must have had a thorough knowledge of 
his own State and of the other States of Greece, of their dispositions, and of 
their hiterests relatively to one another, and relatively to their neighbors, 
to the Persians particularly, with whom he held a coiTespondence, not 
much to his honor in appearance, whatever he might intend by it : I say he 
mu-t have been master of m:my other arts, and possessed an immense 
fund of knowledge, to make his eloquence in every case successful, and 
even pertinent or seasonable in some, as Avell as to direct it, and to furnish 
with matter wlienever he thought proper to employ this weapon. 

Lot us consider Tully on tlie greatest theatre of the known Avorld, and in 
the most difficult circumstances. We are better acquainted Avith him than 
we are with Demosthenes ; for we see him nearer, as it Avere, and in more dif- 
ferent lights. HoAv perfect a knowledge had he acquired of the Roman con- 
stitution of gOA-ernment, ecclesiastical and civil ; of the origin and progress, 
of the general reasons and particular occasions of the laAA's and customs of 
his country ; of the great rules of equity, and the low practice of courts ; 
of tlie duty of CA-ery magistracy and office in the State, from the dictator 
doAvn to the lictor ; and of all the steps ly wliich Eome Iiad risen from her 
infancy, to liberty, to poAA-er, and grandeur, and dominion, as aa'cU as of all 
those by which she began to decline, a little before his age, to that servitude 
which he died for opposing, but lived to see established, and in AA-hich 
not her libertA' alone, but her poAA'er, and grandeur, and dominion AA-cre lost ! 
HoAV AA'ell AA'as he acquainted AA'ith the Roman colonies and proA'inces, Avith 
ihe allies and enemies of the empire, Avith the riglits and privileges of the 
former, the dispositions and conditions of the latter, Avith the interests of them 
all relatiA-ely to Rome, and of the interests of Rome relaiiA-ely to them ! 
lloAV present to his mind were the anecdotes of former times concerning 
the Roman and other States, and how curious -was he to observe the minut- 



68 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

pieces of art, delivered every Sanday, everybody certainly 
would protest against such a view, and demand that his 
orations be regarded as intiividaal attenipts to influence 

est circumstances that passed in his own ! His works -will ansAver suf- 
ficiently the questions I ask, and establish in the mind of every man who 
reads them the idea I would give of his capacity and knowledge, as well as 
tliat which is so universally taken of his eloquence. To a man fraught with 
all tliis stock of knowledge, and industrious to improve it daily, nothing 
could happen that was entirely new ; nothing for which he Avas quite unpre- 
pared ; scarce any eifect whereof he had not considered the cause ; scarce 
any cause wherein his sagacity could not discern the latent eflpect. His elo- 
quence in private causes gave him first credit at Eome ; but it was this 
knowlc'lge, this experience, and the continued habits of business, that sup- 
poited his reputation, enabled him to do much service to his country, and 
gave force and authority to his eloqnence. 'J'o little purpose would he have 
attacked Catiline with all the vehemence that indignation, and even fear, 
added to eloquence, if he had trusted to this weapon alone. This weapon 
alone would have secured neither him nor the senate from the poniard 
of that assassin. He would have had no occasion to boast, that he had 
driven this infamous citizen out of the walls of Rome, ahiit, excessit, evasit, 
erapit, if he had not made it, beforehand, impossible for him to continue any 
longer in them. As little occasion would he have had to assume the 
honor of defeating, without any tumult, or any disorder, the designs of 
those who conspired to murder the Roman people, to destroy the Roman 
empire, and to extinguish the Roman name ; if he had not united, by skill 
and management, in the common cause of their country, orders of men the 
most averse to each other ; if he had not watched all the machinations of 
the conspirators in silence, and prepared a strength sufficient to resist them 
at Rome, and in the provinces, before he opened this scene of villany to the 
senate and the people : in a word, if he had not made much more 
use of political prudence, that is, of the knowledge of mankind, and of the 
arts of government, which study and experience give, than of all the powers 
of liis eloquence. 

Such was Demosthenes, such was Cicero, such were all the great men 
■whose memories are preserved in history, and such must every man be, or 
endeavor to be, if he has either sense or sentiment, who presumes to 
meddle in affairs of government, — of a free government, I mean, — 
and hopes to maintain a distinguished character in popular assemblies, what- 
ever part he takes, whether that of supporting, or that of opposing." — On 
the Spirit of Patriotism. Bolinghrokes Works, IV., pp. 214-219.— Te. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 69 

his hearers, as individual acts in the discharge of his 
calling; whereby tliey would become lost in the sum- 
total of his social influence. But since all the activity 
of man in his various relations is, or should be, under 
the guidance of the moral law, the practice of Elo- 
quence, if Eloquence is, in reality, an activity of this 
sort, can be subjected to no other than Ethical laws. 
Eloquence seeks to produce a change in the sentiments 
and conduct of other men. The inquiry after its fun- 
damental principles, therefore, becomes changed quite 
naturally into this: What are the laws according to 
which a free being may exert influence upon other free 
beings ? And the answer to this question can be derived 
only from Ethics. 

We will attempt to answer it. And if it shall turn 
out that all the rules of Eloquence, which have been 
truly and correctly acknowledged as such, but which have 
been placed beside each other in no inward connection, 
can be derived from the laws according to which a free 
being may exert influence upon other free beings, there 
will be no doubt that Rhetoric, considered as the theory 
of Eloquence, is a part of Ethics, and that Eloquence 
itself is an ability to exert influence according to ethical 
laws, — that is to say, is a Virtue. 

In this way, moreover, the perplexity will be removed 
in which theorizers find themselves when they would de- 
termine whether Eloquence is an Art or not, and, gener- 
ally, what it is in reality. They cannot declare it to be an 
Art, since it is plain that it aims at the attainment of an 
outward end, and not at a free and uninterested represen- 
tation of the Beautiful. To the level of a Trade, how- 
ever, it cannot be degraded ; hence a distinction is made 



70 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

between fine and non-fine, aesthetic and non-aesthetic, 
Arts; strange expressions, and difficult to be understood I* 
Into this latter class Eloquence is thrown, with the addi- 
tional remark, that it merits the name of an Art, in so 
far as we connect with this term the conception of a 
practised and cultivated capacity and ability to produce 
works whose individual parts in their closest connection 
unite for one and the same end. Under this conception, 
however, belongs also every talent of a mechanical kind, 
and hence nothing is added to the dignity of Eloquence 
by such a distinction. But if the view of Eloquence 
brought forward by us can be maintained, not only a 
much more settled and definite place would be secured 
to it, but also a place in the highest degree honorable. It 
would belong to that which is highest among men, to 
Virtue ; and could be called an Art only in so iar as the 
name of Art could be given to Virtue itself. 

But in saying that Eloquence is a Virtue, it is by no 
means meant that a certain degree of moral excellence 
is enough in order to Eloquence, and all that is usually 
derived from art, learning, and science, can be dispensed 
with. It is only meant that the arrangement and defini- 
tion of that which Eloquence derives to itself from these 
different departments, belongs peculiarly to ethical laws ; 
but this is the very thing that is demanded of a highest 
fundamental principle. Who, for example, would deny 
that the imagination is the highest lawgiver for the 
painter ? And yet no painting can be completed by the 

* Schott's Theory of Eloquence, 1807, p. 17. Fundamental Principles of 
Ehetoric and Homiletics, by the same, 1815, p. 420. — A condensed 
summary of the first mentioned work of Schott, by Prof. Park, may 
be found in the Bibliotheca Sacra.— Tb. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 71 

imagination alone. There is needed, besides, mechani- 
cal skill, knowledge of colors, of perspective, of anatomy, 
of history; the imagination, as the highest fundamental 
principle, merely determines ]ioiu each of these knowl- 
edge's and abilities shall be applied. In like manner, 
means of various kinds are necessary to the orator, ac- 
cording to the different relations which he sustains, and 
according to the different ends which he proposes to 
himself, which are to be obtained only by study and 
practice ; but that which determines ivhere^ lioiv^ and in 
what degree^ each of the existing means shall be applied, 
is the ethical law, to which belongs every judgment re- 
garding our relations, our ends, and our social influence. 
So that here the moral law does not merely point out the 
time for the action, leaving the guidance of the action to 
another principle, as would be the case in the practice of 
any particular art; but Eloquence, in all its various 
forms, is nothing but the development of the Ethical 
impulse itself. 



72 



ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 



CHAPTER V. 

IDEAS. 

But what is the tenor of this highest law of Eloquence, 
which, according to what has been said, must necessarily 
be an ethical one ? It does not seem to us to be neces- 
sary here to unfold from the bottom a new and peculiar 
system of morals ; it will be sufficient to consider closely 
the relation which the orator sustains to the hearer. The 
few positions which we shall lay down, will, it is hoped, 
meet with a confirmatory response in the moral feeling 
of every cultivated man. 

The orator has plans and designs which he would 
realize, and to this end he must first overcome the slug- 
gishness of indiflferent minds, and give them an impulse 
to action ; and secondly, he must overcome those who 
openly oppose, and carry them along with him. But he 
has no compulsory authority at all over the minds of 
others ; he is not a law-giver, who ordains the relations 
of men, and thus gives them direction in a mediate, yet 
sure and irresistible manner; he is not a raler, who leads 
a whole people hither and thither, because he has control 
over the possessions, life, and standing of every indi- 
vidual. He stands upon a perfect equality with those 
upotj whom he would exert an influence ; and since his 
relation to them ensures him no open authority over 
their freedom, he may not surreptitiously obtain it in 
any secret manner; he must respect their freedom, and 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 73 

neither by exciting their emotions, nor deluding their 
understandings, deprive them of this prerogative. The 
hearer who is carried away, must, at the same time, act 
independently also; and while he follows the will of the 
orator, he must not merely believe that he is following 
his own will, but must actually follow it. But how is 
the solution of such a difficult, and, as it would seem, 
insoluble problem, rendered possible ? From the fact 
that there is something altogether universal and neces- 
sary which all men will, something which they must will, 
from their moral nature ; from the fact that the true free- 
dom of man is constantly striving after the realization 
of certain Ideas, which can be enumerated and distinctly 
pointed out. The orator, therefore, has satisfied all the 
requisitions of morality, as soon as he has carried back 
his present design to one of those Ideas which every in- 
dividual of his hearers wishes to realize. For, in this 
way, the freedom of one man is not destroyed by the in- 
fluence of another upon him ; he only fulfils, from an 
impulse from without, what he is constantly seeking to 
fulfil from an inward impulse. The highest law of Elo- 
quence, therefore, is this : the particular Idea ichich the 
orator ivishes to realize, is to be carried back to the neces- 
sary Ideas of the hearer. 

Of these necessary Ideas we must now obtain a more 
distinct apprehension. Ideas, generally, are productive 
thoughts, which impel to production and action, and are 
themselves the germ of that which is to be produced, as 
well as the rule by which its form is to be constructed. 
As there are plastic,* musical, poetic Ideas, from which 



* Plastic is here used in its strict signification, to denote that which per- 
tains to sculpture, including works both in stone and bronze. — Tr. 

7 



74 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

the creations, in each of these spheres of art originate ; 
so there are also ethical Ideas, which are destined to be 
embodied in life, which lie in the reason, must be pre- 
supposed to be in every man considered as a being 
endowed with reason^ and are^ moreover, actually in- 
dwelling in every one, though not in equal clearness and 
liveliness. For the mind in action, these Ideas flow to- 
gether into one, and form a whole, which flames before 
it as the one Ideal Perfection, after which it strives, and 
which is capable of an outward realization in its action. 
But in reflection, and in verbal statement, the Perfect di- 
vides into three different Ideas, according as reference is 
had to the circumstances under which action occurs, or 
to the character of the person who acts, or to the neces- 
sary inward and outward consequences of the action. 
Every man wills the Perfect, in so far as it is specifically 
determined and conditioned by his peculiar relations ; 
this is the Idea of Duty. Every man wills to be in- 
clined and able to realize the Perfect at all times, and 
everywhere ; this is the Idea of Virtue. Every man 
wills that each and every one of his actions result in a 
series of internal and external consequences that will 
render the realization of the perfect Ideal easier for him 
in future ; this is the Idea of Happiness. In a word, 
every man wills to fulfil his duty, wills to form himself 
to virtue, wills to promote his own happiness.* These 

* The author here means to say that man wills to fulfil his duty, to form 
himself to virtue, and to promote his own real happiness, ideally, not actu- 
ally. By virtue of his moral constitution, he wills and must will this, 
though by reason of sin he actually does not. But the orator must address 
man as he came from his Creator, and not as he has made himself; he must 
appeal to that which is highest in him, even although it does not find a 
realization in his actual life. Only in this way can he profoundly move or 
elevate his hearer, — Tr. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 75 

are the necessary practical Ideas which are to be met 
with ill every man, and freedom consists only in follow- 
ing these Ideas unconditionally. 

It is plain now, in what consists the first duty of the 
orator. The hearer, while he is borne along, is, never- 
theless, to remain free, and through the whole of his ora- 
tion the orator is to carry back the particular Idea every- 
where present in it, to these necessary Ideas of the hearer. 
He in this way shows them how, in order to fulfil their 
duty, in order to elevate themselves to virtue, in order to 
promote their happiness, they must also realize his pro- 
positions ; how the Ideas of Daty, of Virtue, of Happi- 
ness, of themselves necessarily produce this very disposi- 
tion, necessarily impel them to the very conduct to 
which he would urge them. In this way, the orator not 
only respects the freedom of the hearer, but while he 
seems to overpower and utterly subject him, raises 
him, through the enlivenment of his Ideas, to the very 
highest grade of an independent self-consciousness. It 
is for this reason, also, that men who abhor all compul- 
sion, and are ready to resist all compulsory violence, 
love the orator, and follow him gladly, because he gives 
them a direction, by means of Ideas, the most powerful 
and certain, yet, at the same time, most innocent force 
by which men are controlled. " Whoever feels himself 
to be compelled," says Xenophon, " hates, as if he were 
deprived of some good ; whoever is persuaded, loves, as 
if he had received a benefit." * 

* Mem or. I. 2, 10, 



76 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE POLITICAL AND RELIGIOUS FORM OF PRACTICAL IDEAS. 

But only in the most general relations, — relations in 
which men meet each other as free beings merely, and 
before any relation of a more limited sort has developed 
itself from this original relation, — do the regulating Ideas 
of the Will appear as Duty, Virtue, and Happiness. 
Through every closer connection among men, by which 
that original relation is further developed and unfolded, 
these Ideas a-lso obtain a stricter determination, a wider 
unfolding, and, consequently, another name. There are, 
however, two relations among men which have the com- 
mon aim to render easy the realization of these practical 
Ideas, and which have both been established by God, 
the one in a supernatural manner, the other by a neces- 
sity of nature. The first is the Church; the second is 
the State. 

We will, in the first place, consider what form the 
ethical Ideas assume in this latter relation. Since in 
the State the universal ethical law, in its application to 
particuar cases, becomes more closely determined by 
positive laws and ordinances, Civil Law, or the Legally 
Hight, here comes in, in the place of Duty. Since, fur- 
thermore, in the State, the happiness of every individual 
consists in his activity as a citizen being unrestricted, 
and since this cannot be unless there is a flourishing 
condition of the commonwealth, the ethical Idea of Hap- 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 77 

piness becomes changed into the striving after the Com- 
mon Weal. Lastly, Virtue here comes into notice only 
in so far as the realization of Ideal Perfection, to which 
it is inclined and suited, promotes the well-being of the 
commonwealth, and in this reference Virtue is called 
Merit. Civil Laic^ the Common Weal, and Merits are 
consequently, the necessary Ideas, by which every mem- 
ber of State, as such, is guided in his conduct ; and the 
firs-t doty of the orator, if he is dealing with his hearers 
as members of a State, consists in showing them how, 
through the execution of that which he proposes. Civil 
Law will be obeyed, the Common Weal will be pro- 
moted, and Civic Merit will be acquired. 

But these Ideas attain a perfect unfolding, neither in 
the general ethical relations, nor in the particular politi- 
cal, since in these they remain shut up within the sphere 
of the earthly, which can never satisfy man, from his 
very nature. They acquire their highest dignity only 
through religion, and through their reference to the Deity, 
who imparts this reference to them. Hence they appear 
in the Church, where the Christian, as such, exercises an 
influence upon the Christian, regards his own activity as 
an efflux from the Deity, or as a striving to return back 
into Him, and thereby imparts to these ideas an actu- 
ating power, both for himself and others, of which they 
are always destitute when man does not rise above and 
beyond his own individuality. 

In the Church, however, a divine institution, and under 
divine guidance, the human reason cannot be regarded 
as the highest law-giver ; God alone is the supreme law- 
giver who speaks to us through his natural word in the 
conscience, and his revealed word in the gospel, and 
gives us a rule of conduct; what, therefore, this com- 

»7 * 



78. ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

mands in a particular iDstance, is jiot merely Duty (an 
idea that carries man back no further than to himself 
merely), but the Will of God. Furthermore, when the 
Christian contemplates that disposition of the soul which 
is constantly applying itself to good works, and is able 
to perform them, he cannot possibly stop at mere Vir- 
tue ; for this denotes that degree of moral perfection to 
which man can raise himself, which he can attain by a 
constant struggle with sin. But the Christian knows of 
something higlier; he beholds moral perfection as it 
reigns, without struggle, and without conflict, in the 
divine Being; and hence this perfect condition of the 
soul can for him consist only in resemblance to God, or, 
since the invisible God has become man, and has lived 
and acted in human relationships, in resemblance to 
Christ. Happiness, again, he cannot possibly seek in a 
series of statea and conditions, each one of which renders 
the production of the highest good easier in the next 
following; instead of this, his eye, pressing forward into 
eternity, beholds the final goal to which this series con- 
ducts, namely, intimate union with God, or Blessedness; 
he, therefore, as his guiding Idea, chooses this alone as 
the ultimate goal, and not Happiness, which, conceived 
of in its highest ethical purity, can constitute only the 
way to this goal. 

Hence, when an orator contemplates himself and his 
hearers as members of the Church, his first duty con- 
sists in bringing the Idea which he would impart to them, 
into connection with the Ideas which he must necessa- 
rily presuppose in them ; and these, according to the 
i foregoing, are the Divine Will, Godlikeness, and Bless- 
edness. If no one of these is prominent in a sermon, as 
the point from which everything is viewed, so much is 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 79 

certain at least, the sermon does not belong to the sphere 
of Eloquence. But the sacred orator should not deem 
it unworthy of his office to be at home in this sphere, 
since, according to what has been said before, Eloquence 
is not only the most innocent of all influences, but is 
Virtue itself. It has shown itself to be such thus far^ 
and, it is hoped, will prove itself to be such, still more, 
in what is to follow. 

I must here beg my readers to carefully note a result 
which flows with the greatest certainty from the investi- 
gation thus far, the truth of which, however, has never 
been strictly proved, nay, has been doubted by most, — 
namely, that ecclesiastical Eloquence is entirely one and 
the same with political, as to its Ideas ; that is, as to its 
nature. 

In saying this, however, we do not deny that they 
differ from one another in their outward form, in an 
important degree ; for Church and State are very differ- 
ent relationships, and relationships always exert a mate- 
rial influence upon every species of moral activity.* 

It is apparent furthermore, that even if it be granted 
that the political and judicial Eloquence of the Ancients 
has perished, still only one form of the thing, and not 
the very thing itself, has perished ; for this has risen 
again in ecclesiastical Eloquence with a still higher 
splendor; the Ideas upon which Eloquence is based 
have been made more splendid by passing through the 



* Herder says, in his letter^ upon the study of Theoloory, (letter 40,) 
" \yhoever takes the judicial orations of Demosthenes and Cicero as an 
absolute model for his sermons, has no true conception either of a sermon 
or of a judicial oration ; he does not understand the true end of either." 
True, if he makes them an absolute model. But as I have presented the 
iiatter, this objection would not, it is hoped, apply to my view. 



80 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE; OR, 

medium of Kelfgion, and whatever deficiency modern 
Eloquence may have in perfection of form, when com- 
pared with ancient, it is compensated for by the superi- 
ority of its subject-matter, while, at the same time, it is 
to be remembered that perfection in the outward form 
is far more easily attained when the subject is of a less 
elevated nature, than when it is of the absolutely highest. 
Fuially, it is apparent, that even if it be granted that 
ecclesiastical Eloquence itself has disappeared, as is 
actually asserted by some, still Eloquence itself is not 
destroyed, but must be sought for in the intercourse of 
men, in their daily society. In a word. Eloquence is 
eternal, for it rests upon that which is eternal in man, 
upon his ethical Ideas.* 

=^ L' eloquence peut se trouver dans les entretiens et dans tout genre 
d' ecrire. Elle est rarement, ou.on la cherche, et elle est quelquefois oil on 
ne la cherche point. — La Bruyere 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 81 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE DIFFERENT SPECIES OF ELOQUENCE. 

Although all three of these Ideas may be employed 
very properly on one and the same occasion, as motive 
grounds, yet most commonly, the aim of the orator has 
a more easy rererence to one of them, which is then 
predominant, and to which the others, when they are 
employed, are subordinated. This circumstance led the 
Ancients to assume three species of orations, of which 
one has Legality and Illegality, another, Public Advan- 
tage and Public Detriment, and the third. Civic Merit 
and Civic Demerit, for its subject-matter. The first is 
the oration before the court of justice ; the second, the 
deliberative or political oration; the third, the panegyri- 
cal or demonstrative oration. Correct as this division 
is, the Ancients have nevertheless, so far as I am aware, 
given no satisfactory ground for it, as indeed they were ^ 
in general well fitted for comprehending and analyzing, ' 
but were less successful in referring to higher principles. 
For that which Aristotle, from whom the later rhetori- 
cians derive this division,* offers in its justification,! has 
in truth more resemblance to a jest, however earnest he 
may have been in it. There are, says he, as many 
species of orations as there are species of hearers ; but 

* Quiiitil. III. 4. 

t Rhtto. I. 3. Cicero derives this division in the same way. — De Parti- 
thy.ie, HI. 



82 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

the hearer is either a spectator or a judge, and this latter 
again, in respect to the future, or in respect to the past; 
hence there arise the demonstrative, the deliberative, and 
the judicial orations. This supposition, of a hearer who 
is merely a spectator, is most remarkable. The demon- 
strative orations of the Sophists, (that is, discourses hav- 
ing no other aim but to strike by the jingle of words,) 
were indeed listened to with applause in the time of 
Aristotle ; but this must be regarded only as a piece of 
bad taste, and not as a natural impulse in man, upon 
which to build philosophically. Furthermore, although 
the relations in which the hearers usually stood to the 
orator in the ancient republics, are imperfectly indeed 
denoted by this passing of judgment on the past or the 
future, yet it is by no means shown thereby, that there 
were only so many and could be no more of such rela- 
tions.* 

On the contrary, if these three species of orations are 
placed beside the three Ideas above-mentioned, it is 
apparent that these are the only ground upon which the 
division in question rests. For since among the An- 
cients, only the political relation reached any good degree 
of perfection, these Ideas could, be actualized among 
them only under the form of the Legal and the Illegal, 
the Weal and the Detriment of the Btate, Civic Merit 
and its contrary, and this very relation is also assigned 
as the subject-matter of the three species. 

If divisions are to be made at all in Eloquence, the 
different species cannot be determined by a reference to 
the Form and Matter, and to the manner in which both 

* That also does not seem to be satisfactory which occurs to Quiatilian, 
cuucta rimanti III, 4» 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 83 

interpenetrate each other. In Poetry this can be done ; 
in Eloquence it cannot be,* for the reason, that the Form 
and the Matter vary with the relations which the orator 
and the hearer sustain, and these relations are too 
numerous to be specified. The leading Ideas are the 
permanent in Eloquence, the only thing which does not 
change ; and on this account, they of themselves alone 
furnish a ground of division. 

If these three species constitute a valid division in 
political Eloquence, they must be found in sacred Elo- 
quence also, since the fundamental Ideas are the same 
in both. To counsel for the well-being of the State, and 
to point out the way to eternal well-being, is a moral 
activity of one and the same kind ; as also there is no 
practical difference between accusing a criminal and 
inveighing against a vice, between praising a meritori- 
ous man and recommending a virtue. It is only to be 
regretted that the names by which the Ancients desig- 
nated these species are suited to political Eloquence 
alone ; and it could be wished, that appellations of an 
entirely general character might be introduced, which 
could be applied indiscriminately to both political and 
sacred Eloquence. 

That species of oration which is based upon the Idea 
of Virtue was developed latest ; it first received its com- 
plete unfolding through the Church, to which the State 
was always unfavorable. For this reason, also, this 
species was never known among the Ancients in its 
purity. Aristotle apprehends it merely on the side of 
the praise and blame which it dispenses, and makes 

* Oratorum genera esse dicuntnr tamquam poetarum. Id secus est. — 
Cicero De optimo genere oratonun, I. 



84 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE *, OR, 

it a aemonstrative oration without any practical aim. 
Cicero, who adheres closely to this same view, doubts 
whether it can be regarded as a species at all, and 
whether it is necessary to give rules concerning it.* 
And contemplated from this point of view, it certainly 
does not belong to Eloquence. If a writer praises and 
censures with no other purpose but to praise and cen- 
sure, productions of two kinds can arise ; a lyrical poem, 
if the writer surrenders himself to his feelings ; or an 
historical representation, if he follows the thread of a 
narrative. It will be an oration only in case the pur- 
pose to awaken a certain disposition in the hearer, to 
determine him to a certain course of conduct, is con- 
nected with the praise and the censure. The Idea of 
Virtue is employed in this way certainly by the An- 
cients ; yet it is seldom predominant, and commonly is 
subordinate merely, as when Demosthenes places before 
the Athenians the example of their forefathers as an 
incitement to great deeds, or pictures the worthlessness 
of an opponent in order to give greater weight to his 
defence or accusation. 

A particular species of oration, based upon the Idea 
of Virtue, was first formed in the Christian Church ; 
here the moral perfeclion, which is conceived of as being 
in God, which was manifested in Christ, and after which 
whole companies of saints strove, was exhibited to be- 
lievers for imitation. With the panegyrical oration in 
praise^ of the saints, was soon conjoined the funeral ora- 
tion, which is also constructed upon the Idea of Virtue, 
and which deserves the name of an oration only when, 

=^ De Oratore. II. c. 11. "All panegyrics," says Swift, "are mingled 
w th an infusion of poppy." — Tr. 

\ 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 85 

through commendation of the deceased, it seeks to impel 
the hearer to good inclinations and resolutions. Every 
department of literature, nevertheless, has its limits, 
where it borders upon some other; thus this species of 
oration, based upon the Idea of Virtue, forms the transi- 
tion from Eloquence to the Lyrical Poem, on the one 
hand, and to Historical Representation on the other. 
For this reason, the greatest care is requisite in Ihe 
orator at this point, in order not to lose himself in one 
or the other. It would be forgetfulness of the relations 
in which he stands to his hearers, and, consequently, 
contrary to morality, if, without thinking of their benefit, 
he should give himself up entirely to his feelings, or 
should follow out a Historical Representation ; eillier of 
which may be done only so far as it contributes to the 
attainment of an ethical end. It is difficult, I acknowl- 
edge, for the orator to describe his hero with some good 
degree ol completeness, and still bring all under such a 
practical point of view as that he can be sure of exert- 
ing an influence upon the hearer. Yet the solution of 
this problem is not impossible, as the great models 
show. 

8 



88 



ELOQUENCE A VIHTUE; OR, 



corrupt, to blind, to deceive him ; the first, I affirm, will 
always succeed, the second will always fail. 

And, indeed, for the following reasons. First, because 
by virtue of his human nature, moral Ideas are indwell- 
ing in every individual hearer ; while, on the contrary, 
the possession of a human nature does not imply that 
man is controlled at all times by passion, or even that 
he is peculiarly liable to be. Consequently, if the orator 
presupposes the presence of passion, it is very possible 
for him to be mistaken ; and if the orator endeavors 1o 
excite passion, such an undertaking is always very 
doubtful, since a firm point to wdiich he can fasten is 
wanting. This point, on the contrary, is always found, 
and the orator is always sure to awaken interest, as 
soon as he claims to have morality on his side. 

Secondly, even supposing that the passions exist as 
universally in the hearer as the moral Ideas, yet these 
latter possess this advantage over the former, that they 
are the same in all, while the passions, on the contrary, 
are different in each individual. But the orator cannot 
address himself to each particular individual ; one and 
the same effect is to be produced in the most diverse 
minds by one and the same oration. Now, how want- 
ing in good sense would the orator be, if he should 
neglect the universal interest grounded in human nature, 
in order to speak of the particular interest grounded in a 
passion which could affect only some particular mind, 
and with respect to which the most would be cold and 
indifferent! 

In the third place, in addition to this, a very true re- 
mark, and one that is very much to the honor of man, 
applies here; namely, that taken singly, men may, 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 89 

indeed, be full of little passions, but so soon as they are 
collected in great masses, each one seems to give up the 
base portion of his individuality, in order to preserve the 
purely human in it, which is always good. When man 
loses himself in a multitude, he is no longer the narrow- 
hearted creature governed by desire and self-seeking; 
but his interests melt in with those of all the others, 
and, consequently, cannot be other than pure and noble. 
The greater, therefore, the assemblage is, the more large- 
minded must the orator be, or it is all over with him. 

Nay, even the deception which is so often employed 
by popular orators, proves that a direction can be im- 
parted to men only by means of moral Ideas ; for how 
does the orator succeed even in this case ? By no 
means by appealing to xA.varice or Revenge, directly, 
and endeavoring to inflame these passions ; for no one 
has ever been able to carry away a great multitude by 
this means. On the contrary, the art of the deceiver of 
the people has ever consisted in clothing the desires 
gi'owing out of their particular passions in the garb of 
requirements based upon the universal moral Ideas. 
Thus the demagogues in the French Revolution were 
able to bring about their great results only by concealing 
their selfish designs under the Ideas of Justice, the Com- 
mon Weal, that is, under moral Ideas ; and they could 
not but succeed, for owing to the misfortune of the 
times, there were none who were able to exhibit these 
Ideas in their pure form with equal force. But that the 
pure moral Ideas, when they are presented with power, 
gain the victory, (even in the most frivolous and corrupt 
minds,) over that false play with Ideas, the case of 
Demosthenes proves, who beat down his opponent, not 

8* 



90 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE; OR, 

merely by means of his massive style and his perfect 
declamation, but mainly by means of the purity of his 
Will, and the power of his moral Ideas. 

Fourthly, it is to be remembered that every hearer is 
by nature suspicious, particularly v^^hen he perceives 
that the right to influence his mind is claimed, and 
when he reflects that he should yield himself up only 
to one who appears to him to be an honest man. It is 
for this reason, also, that teachers of Rhetoric attach so 
much importance to the way in which the speaker ap- 
pears to the hearer, and to the first impression which 
the hearer receives from the orator. But nothing is so 
difficult as to play the honest man, and one is far more 
readily taken for an honest man, if he really is one. 
For the consciousness of being in the right imparts a 
coloring to the style, and an emphasis to the tone, wdiich 
an evil conscience can imitate only in part, never per- 
fectly ; and the morally bad which peers through, will 
always induce a suspiciousness in the hearer, which 
renders him less susceptible to influence. Hence, when 
Rousseau advised a young and afterwards very dis- 
tinguished French advocate, Loiseau de Mauleon, to 
undertake the defence of only such causes as he was con- 
vinced were just, this was a Rhetorical rule, for the very 
reason that it was an Ethical rule, and adapted to pro- 
mote, in the same degree, both integrity and eloquence.* 

*■ " We ought to be able to persuade on opposite sides of a question ; as 
also we ought in the case of arguing by syllogism ; not that we should 
practise both, for it is not right to persuade to what is wrong ; but in order 
that the bearing of the case may not escape us, and that when another 
makes an unfair use of these reasonings we may be able to solve them. 
The true and better side of the question is always naturally of a more easy 
inference and has, generally speaking, a greater tendency to persuade." — 
Aristotle's Rhetoric, B. I. c. 1. — Tk. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 91 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE SUBORDINATE IDEAS, OR CATEGORIES. 

The orator, in this moral striving to connect his partic- 
ular Idea with the universal and necessary Ideas of his 
hearers, is liable to meet with obstacles of three different 
kinds. First, there are the obscure and undeveloped 
conceptions which the hearer forms of the nature of 
things, whereby he may be prevented from recognizing 
something which the orator holds out (as e. g\ Duty, 
Virtue, or Happiness,) as really being such, and so from 
taking it up into his own Ideas. Secondly, the hearer, 
from a defective knowledge of existing relations, and of 
the present state of things, may be in doubt whether an 
Idea, from which in other respects he does not dissent, 
is practicable. Lastly, the hearer may form a different 
opinion with respect to the actual reality of a matter to 
which the orator would apply one of the higher Ideas, 
or, to speak generally, may not be convinced of its real 
historical existence. Hence arises the necessity for the 
orator, first, to instruct the hearer in the true nature and 
quality of things; secondly, to make clear to him the 
practicability of the proposed undertaking ; thirdly, to 
show him that the matter in question has been actually 
realized, qr to convince him of its historical certainty. 
Hence arise, for the theory of Eloquence, three subordi- 
nate Ideas, or Categories, as I would rather call them: 
Truth, Possibility, Actuality. And here it is evident that 



92 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

moral attributes alone do not suffice for the manage- 
ment of these Categories, but that philosophic culture, 
and a great compass of solid knowledge, is requisite. If 
it is asked by what right, then, we bring these Catego- 
ries into a theory of Eloquence grounded upon ethical 
principles, I would reply: Because the moral maxim, 
that the orator should refer his particular Idea to the 
universal Ideas of the hearer, can be followed out, only 
in case the doubts, or false views of the hearer, in rela- 
tion to the Categories, Truth, Possibility, and Actuality, 
are removed ; and this work, since it is under the guid- 
ance of a moral principle, must also be regarded as 
moral in its nature. And secondly, because the orator, 
in case he did not possess the scientific culture and the 
substantial knowledge which are requisite, would be 
morally obliged to attain them, since they are the neces- 
sary means, in order to the execution of a moral under- 
taking. The orator, even if he acquires philosophic 
culture and historical knowledge, to the full extent per- 
mitted and required by the highest ethico-rhetorical prin- 
ciples, does not thereby become a philosopher or a histo- 
rian, bat must ever be regarded as one whose sphere is 
action, and who seeks to exert an influence externally. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 93 

CHAPTER X. 

THE CATEGORY, TRUTH. 

If we should make Truths i. e., the exhibition of the es- 
sential nature of a thing, the ultimate end in Eloquence, 
Eloquence would thereby become entirely identical with 
Philosophy. But we regard it only as a subordinate 
Category, to which the higher moral Ideas lead. In 
this way Eloquence maintains its ethical character, and 
at the same time its affinity with Philosophy is ex- 
plained. 

It is therefore allowable, and oftentimes necessary, 
for the orator to philosophize, whether the need of the 
Truth, as such, becomes apparent only after the conflict 
between the practical Ideas of the orator and the hearer 
has begun, — in which case. Truth merely furnishes the 
intermediate positions by which the former are the more 
easily made to harmonize with the latter; or whether 
the orator begins with the exhibition of the Truth, — a 
thing that may be done if it accords with the aim and 
the circumstances of the orator, and if the moral im- 
pulse from which it originates and the moral design for 
which it is done, are plainly to be seen. Then this 
impulse itself and this design will set the bounds within 
which the Rhetorical presentation of Truth must be 
kept, and by which it is distinguished from the Philo- 
sophical, which aims at the mere development of Ideas 
without reference to anything farther. 



94 ELO-.:ri:.\c:-: 



OR, 



The cxhibiMoii of Ti-nlli is i\n o;vj<^ct of ])rinie impor- 
trince in sacred E'oqnencc^, v.wA is one of the characteris- 
tic.-; by wiiich in is speciruly disiingnished from secular 
Eloquence. In secuhu' Eloquence, only one deed, one 
single resolve, is sought io be produced by ihe orator. 
T[]is determines, and of necessity limits very narrowly, 
all that belongs to the mere development of a subject, 
and the mere informing of the mind. The problem of the 
sa(tred orator, on the contrary, is to conduct man to eter- 
nal life through the knowledge of God and of His Son, 
and to mould his spirit in such a way that not merely 
one good deed, but a complete change of the inner man, 
and a whole series of good deeds, may be the result. 
Reflections upon human nature and its relation to God, 
so far as they are referred back to Happiness, Virtue, 
and Duty, are therefore perfectly in place in the sacred 
oration. 

Nevertheless, the Rhetorical presentation of Truth is 
entirely different from the Philosophical; for, in Philoso- 
phy, Truth is moulded wholly, and on all sides, in a 
statuesque manner so to speak, so that as in the case of 
a statue, there is no particular point of view, no per- 
spective, for it, but it presents a perfect form to the be- 
holder wherever he stands. In Eloquence, on the con- 
trary, Truth appears only in a picturesque manner, and 
in profile, so to speak, for the orator presents only so 
much of it to the hearer, as is necessary to convince 
him, and as the theme requires. While, therefore, Duty 
commands the orator to strive after scientific culture, it 
also bids him to forget and sacrifice all the sensible, pro- 
found, and excellent thought he may have upon a topic, 
if it is not indispensably necessary to the attainment of 
his end. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 



95 



CHAPTER XL 



THE RHETORICAL DEMONSTRATION OF TRUTH. 



Two points, therefore, have been fixed with respect to 
Philosophizing in Eloquence : first, that some exhibition 
of political, ethical, and religious Truth is necessary in 
Eloquence ; second, that this exhibition cannot be made 
with the completeness of Philosophy. From this it fol- 
lows, further, that the strict demonstration of a proposi- 
tion, — I. e., its derivation from the one highest principle 
of all knowledge, — is not allowable in an oration ;* since 
by a method of this sort, the practical aim of the oration 
would either be destroyed entirely, or at best would only 
faintly glimmer through. Here, therefore, arises the dif- 
ficult question : How is Truth to be established in Elo- 
quence, if it is not allowable to demonstrate it Philoso- 
phically ? 

In answer, it is to be noted in the first place, that 
there are many truths which do not need such a demon- 
stration, and to which the orator can gain the assent of 
all hearers by a plain explication, by a happy illustra- 
tion, by a fitting application to a circumstance in plain 
view. 

If this is not possible, then doubt respecting any par- 
ticular truth, since it cannot be removed by means of a 
demonstration, must be removed by means of Authority ; 
that is, the Authority of the hearer himself or the Au- 

* '• To demand demonstrations from an orator, would be very mucli like 
allowing a mathematician to employ persuasion." Aristotle's Ethics, Book 
I. c. 3.— Tk. 



96 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

thority. of another. And this latter, again, is either 
human or divine. 

The orator cites the Authority of the hearer himself, 
when he shows him that, in rejecting a certain truth, he 
stands in contradiction to himself, and to convictions to 
which he has given expression upon other occasions. 
This species of argument, which, from its brevity and 
convincing power, has such a great advantage over phi- 
losophical demonstrations, is to be strongly recommended 
to the orator, and in order to be able to apply it with 
success, he must have the views and opinions of the 
general mass constantly in view, and as much as possi- 
ble must enter into them. Herein, I believe, partly con- 
sists the popularizing power so highly praised, and 
always required, in the orator. I am not afraid that the 
orator, in thus constantly referring to the innate convic- 
tions of his hearers, will find that which is false and 
degrading. It would indeed be degrading to proceed 
from an Ideal which the orator himself regards as ab- 
surd, for the sake of pleasing the hearer ; but why are 
the opinions diffused among the mass of men to be 
regarded as false and absurd, as a matter of course ? 
On the contrary, is it not an essential characteristic of 
the human understanding that the truth can never utterly 
die out of it, but that a portion of it is ever preserved 
pure and genuine ? And why should not the orator 
present what he has to say, in this form, rather than in 
a systematic argument? Since, morever, the freedom 
of the hearer must be respected, it will be respected far 
more if I mould him, so to speak, from within outward, 
and by means of the development which I impart to his 
own Ideas, than if I lace him up in a system foreign to 
him. And I shall have less reason for attempting this 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 97 

last, because, by joining on upon his own inward con- 
viction, I can witli less difficulty gain him over to a salu- 
tary truth ; and because, on the contrary, the finest 
philosophical explication would perhaps only weary hiui 
and render him indifferent to his own true well-being, 
and the practical aim of my oration. Hence, if aii 
orator in the expression of his Ideas, seeks io ])}easo 
himself simply, and for this rpason forgets his hearers 
and the end which he has or should have in view, I 
affirm that this is not only contrary to good sense, since 
he can never in this way attain his end, but it is also 
contrary to morality ; it is reprehensible self-seeking. 
And the evidence that it is contrary to morality, is found 
in the very fact, that it defeats his undertaking. For 
the orator, with all his powers, is now in the Eihical 
domain, and consequently, that which aids these jK)wers 
must be morally good, and that which ihwarts ihera 
must be morally bad. The distinctive character there- 
fore, of oratorical discourse, is Popvlaritij. using the term 
in its highest sense; and the orator is to join on upon 
the truth as it exists among the mass of the pcnople, and 
to esteem the general form in which he finds it here, 
more highly than that particular form which he has 
given to it in his philosophical system. 

If, however, there should be no one among the Ideas 
of the hearer which the orator can employ as the basis 
of his argumentation, then, since a scientific investiga- 
tion is entirely forbidden him, he must betake himself to 
human or divine Authority. And, indeed, nothing is 
more frequent than the employment of the former of 
these in speeches upon legal cases and affairs of stale. 
If the orator thinks that the enlivenment of the ethical 
Ideas of the judge is not sufficient in order to obtain 

9 



98 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

from him the desired decision, he cites the Authority of 
the law; and if an opinion which is being maintained 
is not in accordance with the conceptions of a political 
assemblage, it must then be shown that, in a similar 
case, a statesman of acknowledged wisdom thought or 
spoke in the very same way. 

To sacred Eloquence, in particular, Authority, and 
1 indeed a divine Authority, is so necessary, that this 
I species of Eloquence would not have arisen, and, even 
' now, cannot exist, without it. The highest of all truths, 
those pertaining to the relation of God to man, are here, 
presented to view, in order to serve as a guide to man 
in his striving after happiness, and as motives to sancti- 
fication. Even granting, what, however, is not to be 
granted, that these truths can be reached by philosophic 
deduction alone, yet this method is not to be followed 
by the orator ; for, although knowledge, indeed, might 
be imparted in this way, yet all the practical benefits of 
knowledge would be lost, or, at best, would be but scan- 
I tily reaped. Furthermore, neither the Authority of the 
: hearer, nor that of any man whatever, is a sufficient 
foundation upon which to base truths of such impor- 
tance, and which lie entirely beyond the ordinary field 
of view. They need, therefore, a divine Authority, when 
. they are employed in public discourse, to promote the 
; sanctification and blessedness of men. It was for this 
reason that, among the Ancients, who were destitute of 
\ a positive Revelation, not even a purely moral Elo- 
; quence could be developed along with political Elo- 
quence, notwithstanding the high degree of excellence 
which characterizes their ethical systems, and that a re- 
; ligio-rnoral Eloquence did not appear until Christianity 
I appeared. This species of Eloquence rises, and sets 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 99 

according as faith in a divine Revelation grows stronger 
or weaker ; and, from the very nature of the case, in 
proportion as the sacred orator loses the conviction of 
the divine Authority of the Bible, his Eloquence, also, 
must lose in power and dignity. Let one imagine to 
himself a pulpit orator endowed with the finest talents, 
but who places his own individual reason not beneath, 
but above Revelation, and who, consequently, in deter- 
mining the relations which God sustains to man, and 
which men should sustain to each other, can appeal to 
no higher divine Authority. If the predominant bent of 
his mind is philosophic, he will make it his principal 
business to exhibit, to explain, and, as far as possible, to 
demonstrate, the principles of his religious and ethical 
systems. Now, passing over the objection to such an 
undertaking, that it is ordinarily not suited to the aver- 
age degree of culture in a promiscuous assembly, I ask 
what, at most, can be the result, even supposing that 
the hearer rightly apprehends all the views of the 
speaker? Scientific culture, indeed; but the improve- 
ment of the heart and life of the hearer, and not scien- 
tific culture, was the design of the orator, and he must 
miss of this, since his whole time has been taken up in 
the endeavor to establish certain truths, and none is left, 
to connect them with the higher practical Ideas of the 
hearer. He will, perhaps, attempt to do this in the con- 
clusion ; but if the whole of the oration, up to the 
conclusion, has not been planned with the design to 
awaken moral interest, the orator will in vain labor after 
this in the application of his discourse. 

Furthermore, it seems to me that one can never have 
so firm and unshaken confidence in the religious and 
practical views which he derives from a human system, 



100 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

be it his own or another's, as in those truths which, 
having acknowledged a Revelation, he receives on its 
Authority. Hence, there will always be in the minds of 
pulpit orators who are sceptical respecting a Revelation, 
a certain embarrassment, scarcely perceived by them- 
selves, which will betray itself in their presentation of 
truth, now by a cold, indifferent tone, now by unnatural 
effort and distorted zeal; and thus the truths presented 
by them, however excellent they may be, will never 
acquire the influence over the feelings and the will which 
a calmer, more powerful emphasis would have imparted. 
But what carries this embarrassment to the highest 
pitch, and must, in the utmost degree, weaken the 
Rhetorical power of a pulpit orator in the exhibition of 
truth, is the obscure feeling which will certainly j)ress 
upon him, that, considering the relation wliich he sus- 
tains to his hearer, there is something contrary to up- 
rightness in such a way of thinking; and this not 
merely because he is actirtg contrary to the designs of 
the State and the Church, who have appointed him to 
proclaim, not his own individual and human opinions, 
but divine truth, — although this seems to me to be a 
very well-founded scruple, — but principally because his 
office invests him with a dignity and respect which 
must appear as unwarrantable assumption in the case 
of every one who does not found his teaching on divine 
Authority. It is true, indeed, that when a man appears 
before other men, in order to prosecute the guilty, or 
defend the innocent, or to propose measures for the 
common weal, he needs no impulse from above, and no 
divine Authority, in order to do this. But it is difficult 
to undt^rstand how a man, with no basis but his own 
strength alone and not regarding himself as the arabas- 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 101 

sador of a higher being, can dare to point out to his 
fellow-men, this, as the road to salvation, and that, as 
the road to perdition, and now, to urge them on by the 
prospect of the punishment and retributions of a future 
world, and now, to hold them back. He can acquire 
the right to do this only through a wisdom and virtue 
higher than human ; and who will venture to ascribe 
these perfections to himself? The higher the degree in 
which he does really possess them, the greater, it seems 
to me, must be his dread of being made vain, even in 
his feelings, by appearing in public. Moreover, he sees 
among his hearers persons who are his equals in moral 
and scientific culture, or, it may be, his superiors. Feel- 
ing as if, in this case, it would be unbecoming to seize 
with a strong grasp upon their minds, he seeks to say to 
his little public only what is pathetic, agreeable and 
entertaining ; and if he describes a vice, he gives them 
to understand that he does not suspect any one of his 
hearers, but has in his eye certain other persons who are 
out of their circle. Emotion is everything for him, and 
the awakening of feeling that comes to nothing; he 
seeks to be brilliant by means of external attractions and 
an ornamental style;* and thus his discourses are de- 
prived of power and usefulness by his scepticism. 

Let one, on the contrary, imagine to himself a sacred 
orator of less talent, but who, to a sincere will to do 
good, joins an unshaken belief in the truths of the 
Christian religion ; and let him see what a higher eleva- 
tion and sweep his discourses will receive from this 
single circumstance. While he derives the sublimest 
truths from the Holy Scriptures, where they are given to 

* Un clerc mondain ou irreligieux, s'il monte en cliaire, est de'clamatem.-. — 
La Brmj^re. 

9* 



102 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

him in the clearest, most popular form, he is, at the same 
time, through the divine Authority of the Bible, raised 
above all prolix developments and arguments, and with- 
out troubling himself about them, can apply his vvdrole 
power to directly impressing the minds of his hearers. 
The truths exhibited by him will be the more readily 
believed, since he himself speaks only because he be- 
lieves, and since his firm inward conviction gives an 
equally calm and moving emphasis to his tone, before 
which all doubt must disappear. With all the humility 
produced by a sense of the weakness of the human 
reason, as well as of his own moral deficiencies, he yet 
feels that, without assumption, he may address instruc- 
tion, rebuke, and exhortation to his equals, nay, to those 
better and wiser than himself, since he speaks to them, 
not in his own, but in God's name ; and since as an 
ambassador of the Highest, he is raised above every one, 
be he who he may. Since, therefore, the design of the 
sacred orator to lead to Virtue and Happiness through 
the knowledge of the truth, is to be attained only through 
his belief in Revelation ; and since without this, the 
relation which he sustains to his hearers has not even a 
moral validity, it is plain that belief in Revelation in his 
case must not only be regarded as a religious character- 
istic, but as a moral excellence also, and should be 
strictly required in him. It is in this connection the 
more mournful to notice, that so many, from a ground- 
less fear of giving displeasure by recognizing a divine 
Authority, either conceal their belief in it altogether, or 
else give only timid utterance to it, and thereby deprive 
their discourses of power, dignity, usefulness, and conse- 
quently in the end of the approbation of the public also. 
To him who is animated by the lofty desire of rival- 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC 103 

ling the political Eloquence of the Greeks, and of speak- 
ing from the pulpit with Deraosthenean power, I would 
say " Science, Learning, Style, Delivery, these all ren- 
der easier the practice of Eloquence, but do not make 
the orator. Demosthenes became an orator through the 
greatness and solidity of his character, and these quali- 
ties are indispensable to you, too, in order to the attain- 
ment of your aim ; but they are not all you need. 
Though the gi*eatest perfection attainable here were 
yours, yet you are not free from human weakness, and 
who gives you the right to proclaim salvation or dam- 
nation to your brethren, who are not worse than your- 
self? This difficulty you will feel; you will not ven- 
ture to speak to them with power ; you will be com- 
pelled to content yourself with exciting their emotions, 
or enriching their stores of information with new views ; 
you will perhaps, for a time, be listened to with applause 
by a mixed assembly ; but the abiding, eternal renown, 
the salutary, ever-onward-rolling influence of your efforts, 
is gone. You are weak and fearful so long as you 
would rest upon yourself; dare to regard yourself as the 
organ of a higher Being, and you are all power and all 
courage. Faith plants you firm and sure ; your teach- 
ing is no longer that of the Pharisees, unmeaning sound, 
and useless hair-splitting ; you teach with power, like 
Jesus himself, for he spake the words of His Father, and 
you speak His. Appropriate each and every one of His 
words, as well as those which His Spirit gave to His 
Apostles ; but take them in the very sense in which 
they take them. You do not believe it now", but your 
own experience will soon teach you, that in the doc- 
trines of our religion lies hidden all ihe power of sacred 
Eloquence." 



104 



ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ! OR, 



Would that many might understand me, and through 
Eloquence be led to Christianity ! A great honor for 
Eloquence, and a glorious gain for Christianity! For 
were it not as well and fitting to attain to Christian 
faith through Eloquence, as by the ordinary way of 
adversity and suffering ? 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 105 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE CATEGORIES, POSSIBILITY AND ACTUALITY. 

As 1he higher Rhetorical Ideas lead the orator to the 
Category Truth, i. e., to the exhibition of the nature 
of a thing, they also frequently demand the proof of 
the possibility and actual existence of a thing. And 
hence, in addition to Truth, Possibility and Actuality 
come into view as subordinate Rhetorical Ideas, or 
Categories. 

The Idea of Possibility is employed in a special man- 
ner in the oration before deliberative bodies. In this 
case, however apparent the benefits are that accrue from 
the execution of the proposed undertaking, yet the cour- 
age of the hearer often falls on reflecting how diflicult 
the undertaking is, and his indolence intrenches itself, so 
to speak, behind the objection that it is impossible. 
This objection must be removed, and the orator must 
show clearly the practicability of his proposition. As 
the hindrances which seem to stand in his way disappear, 
one after another, the ethical Idea in the hearer acquires 
vitality and force, and begins to impel him to action. 
Demosthenes would have employed all ethical motives 
in vain, in ordcn* to incite the Athenians to resist Philip, 
if he had not also, at the same time, made clear to Wu^xn 
the practicability of his proposition, and the Possibility 
of success. We see what an amount of solid knowl- 
edge is requisite in the orator, how he must have 



106 



ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 



thoroughly examined all the relations of the State, and 
have calculated all its resources, in order to acquit him- 
self well in respect to this point. It does not belong to 
my plan to mention all the cases which the Idea of Pos- 
sibility includes ; and I content myself with remarking, 
in accordance with my main design, that this Idea, how- 
ever weighty and important it may be, is yet subordinate 
to the ethical Idea of State Weal. For only through 
this is the orator led to the consideration of the Possi- 
bility of a thing; and he can have no finer impelling 
motive to attain all the knowledge requisite for this, 
than that love of country by which he is inspired. 

Moreover, this Idea is found in sacred Eloquence, also. 
Those acquainted with the human heart know how often 
we endeavor to quiet our conscience, when it brings to 
our notice our neglected duties, by the excuse that it 
was impossible for us to perform them. Hence, it is not 
enough for the orator to recommend a particular action 
as belonging to an ethically perfect course of conduct; 
he must so understand mankind generally, and the con- 
dition of society around him, as to be able to enter into 
an examination of all their relations, and to show that 
that which he advocates, is, in the highest degree, 
adapted to their relations. In this way, the high relig- 
ious Ideas are taken out of their abstract and universal 
forms, and put into the concrete and definite forms of 
human life ; and nothing imparts a more active life to 
the Ideas of the hearer, than this full unfolding of them, 
and nothing seizes more powerfully upon his mind. 
But a strong will is needed on the part of the orator, in 
order to compel the very same spirit which has soared 
up to the highest objects of thought, to descend suddenly 
to the minutest detail of human life, without thereby 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 107 

losing its fire and elasticity. Few are able to do this, and 
hence, since it is easier, the orator often deems it more 
befitting to roam about among abstract and formless 
Ideas. 

The category of Actuality is of peculiar importance in 
the judicial oration ; for although the sentence of the law 
respecting a particular act, that of murder, e. g-., is not a 
matter of doubt in the least, yet the act itself sometimes 
is, and its actuality can be affirmed or denied. Here the 
wide field of narrative-proof and statement opens to the 
orator, — a part of Rhetoric upon which the issue of a 
cause depends and which the Ancients consequently cul- 
tivated with great care. Yet, however important it may 
be, the ethical Idea of Civil Law presides over it; without 
this Idea, the question respecting the actuality of a thing, 
would not arise in Eloquence, and it must ever be kept 
in view as the last goal to which the narrative-statement 
tends. Hence no objection against the ethical principle 
laid down by us as the foundation of Eloquence, can be 
brought from the fact that the historical element pre- 
dominates in ttiis species of oration ; for the oration, be- 
fore the court, still remains a moral procedure, in accord- 
ance with the Idea of positive Law, although this latter 
leads directly to the notion and exhibition of the Actu- 
ality of a thing. 

This subordinate Idea is also found in sacred as well 
as in political Eloquence. In this department it exists in 
very close connection with the category Truth, the latter 
category very commonly leading to the former. For it is 
a peculiarity of Christianity that it establishes the truth, 
not by means of demonstration, but by means of facts ; 
as, e. g-., the love of God, by the sacrifice of His Son, 
immortality, by the resurrection of Christ. If these facts 



108 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

are doubted, they must be shown to be actual by means 
of a historical examination of witnesses. Such investi- 
gations are of the greatest interest, because the Truth 
established thereby stands in such close connection with 
the highest practical Ideas; with Duty, Happiness and 
Virtue. Furthermore, to this category belong those pas- 
sages, whether in political or sacred oratory, in which the 
quality of a person, or a thing, is described, in order to 
apply to it one of the higher Ideas. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 109 

CHAPTER XIII. 

THE PLAN AND DIVISION OF AN ORATION. 

By laying down the Rhetorical Ideas and Categories, 
we have, as it were, measured off the domain of Elo- 
quence, and found the materiel on which it labors. By 
contemplating, therefore, these Ideas in their first move- 
ment, we also become acquainted with the Form, in its 
most general features, which the Rhetorical materiel as- 
sumes. This is the doctrine of the Pla7i and Division of 
an oration, rei?pecting which, ordinarily, very good and 
correct, but for the most part merely logical, rules are 
given, which, consequently, relate only to the Form; 
teaching, it is true, how to distinguish the good from the 
bad in the Form, but not pointing out the way to find the 
former, and avoid the latter. We wish here to unite both, 
and to investigate this materiel^ not only in a formal, but 
also in a real manner. We must needs succeed, since we 
conceive of Eloquence as a procedure according to Ideas, 
in which Ideas the Matter as well as the Form of that 
which is to be produced, is contained; and since, conse- 
quently, we never separate the Form from the Matter, and 
are, therefore, enabled to determine on this theory, not 
only how the division is to be made, but also, luhat is to 
be divided. 

Let us, therefore, imagine to ourselves a man who pos- 
sesses the ability to bring out ethical Ideas into his con- 
sciousness, in great power and vitality, and who is ani- 
mated with the desire to represent these Ideas in actual 
life, or rather to mould the Actual into conformity with 

10 



110 



ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 



these Ideas. Such an one can employ, for this purpose, 
no other means than the Ideas themselves, and their ex- 
pression in language ; and he knows that his undertaking 
will succeed only in case he is not subservient to the 
passions of his hearer, but rather subjects himself to the 
Ideas of the hearer, — to that which is Highest and Best 
in him. He, therefore, brings his hearer before his mind, 
at first with merely the main features of his ethical na- 
ture, and with those requisitions which every man imposes 
upon himself, — viz., to fulfil his Duty, to form himself to 
Virtue, to lay a foundation for Happiness. When he 
addresses members of the State or Church, he conceives 
these Ideas in the particular form given to them by each 
of these relations. Every citizen, the political orator pre- 
supposes, desires to have Law and Justice administered, 
the Common Weal promoted, and to acquire personal 
Merit; every Christian, the sacred orator presupposes, 
desires to fulfil the Law of God, to raise himself to Like- 
ness with Him, and to become capable of Eternal Bless- 
edness. That these Ideas are leading Ideas in each and 
every hearer, the orator presupposes ; but even if he is 
mistaken, even if no one of them, in any one of the above 
specified forms, exists in the hearers, — a thing which we 
affirm to be impossible, — still this confident presupposi- 
tion would be the best means by which to generate them ; 
for in proportion as men are assumed to be better than 
they are, and are so treated, do they become better than 
they are. 

When the orator has thus brought the hearer before 
him, he will find it adapted to his purpose, either to refer 
the particular Idea of his oration to one only of the 
above-mentioned Ideas, be it one of the higher or subordi- 
nate, or else to connect it with several of them. The 






i v^ 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. Hi 

oratfons constructed in the former way, I would denomi- 
nate simple ; those in the latter, complex. In the simple 
oration. Happiness, or Virtue, or Duty, is the predominat- 
ing Idea; or else Truth, or Possibility, or Actuality, 
shaped and moulded by one of these former. In the com- 
plex oration. Truth, e.g-., takes the lead, and Virtue and 
Happiness follow; or whatever may be the order found 
best adapted to the particular Idea of the oration, and to 
the relations peculiar to it. 

And now the orator makes a perfectly simple and natu- 
ral beginning, by specifying his general design, and des- 
ignating the Ideas or Categories, whether one or more, 
to which he intends to refer. This, and nothing more 
than this, is the Exordium. Its distinguishing character- 
istics are clearness and plainness. The orator announces 
the contest to the hearer, and tells him at what point he 
intends to attack him ; and the hearer can well engage in 
it, because the fight is with honorable weapons, and the 
advantage is always on the side of the vanquished. 

Since, among the Ancients, the subject upon which the 
orator wished to speak was usually known to the hearers, 
the Exordium, so far as it contained an announcement of 
the subject, must naturally be very brief; and it became 
more extended only when the orator wished to present 
himself in a more advantageous light in the existing cir- 
cumstances, or to remove certain prejudices respecting 
himself personally, which might hinder his success. This 
advantage, arising from the hearer's being acquainted 
with the subject, and from a set occasion, is afforded to 
the sacred orator by the Festival days in the Christian 
Church, and also, to some extent, at least, by the Scrip- 
ture text. For this, provided it is rightly selected, already 
contains the particular Idea of the orator, which needs 



112 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

only a slight explanation, in order to spring forth from it 
into plain view. Moreover, the text is often interwoven 
with the circumstances and relations to which it was ap- 
plied at the time of its first utterance, and the orator 
needs only to realize them to himself, in order to discover 
the same or similar relations in the present time, upon 
which it shall exert its influence. Since, therefore, the 
text specifies not only the Idea, but also the environment 
in which it is to unfold itself, this important advantage 
enables the sacred orator to abridge his exordiam, es- 
pecially as he does not need, like the political orator, to 
fill it out with assurances that his purposes are pure. For, 
in the first place, the whole drift and connection of his 
sermon, and still more of his life, is the best evidence of 
this ; and, in the second place, since he ever appears as 
the ambassador of a higher Being, and never in his own 
name, it is not befitting in him to be anxiously careful 
about himself. That which so often lengthens out the 
Exordium is the undue employment of the subordinate 
Categories; the exhibition of the Truth or the Actuality 
of a thing, e. g'., — the orator, with the design of interest- 
ing, addressing himself to man's mere desire for knowl- 
edge, without regard to the demands of his moral nature. 
I cannot favor this method, and believe that it may be 
followed only in rare instances*. For, in the first place, 
time is in this way spent in merely paving the way for the 
Idea, which might be better employed in the development 
of the Idea itself. In the second place, the preliminary 
statements by which the orator would prepare the way for 
the theme, are often as remote from the minds of the 
hearers as the theme itself, so that he might just as well 
employ this as to introduce the former. Finally, in the 
third place, since the mere desire for knowledge is, or 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 113 

should be, subordinate to the moral interest, the orator 
can hardly fail to interest the hearer in his main Idea, if 
he connects it immediately with one of the higher moral 
Ideas, — a thing that can be done without a long circum- 
locution. 

At the end of the Introduction, the orator may an- 
nounce the two or three parts which contain the develop- 
ment proper ; for why should he not carefully employ this, 
as well as every other opportunity, to aid the hearer's at- 
tention, and to facilitate his comprehension of the whole ? 
If the hearer is compelled to stretch his power of atten- 
tion too much, he either slackens it altogether, or else the 
effect of the oration is exerted on the cognitive powers 
alone, and not on the will, which, for the orator's pur- 
poses, is tantamount to no effect at all. 

If we do not find this j^ractice observed in the orations 
of the Ancients, or any announcement of the Plan and 
Division, this may proceed from two reasons. First, the 
method to which they were obliged to accommodate 
themselves, was prescribed to them by the occasion on 
which they spoUe, far more than is the case with the sacred 
orator, and since this method, especially in the instance 
of the orator before a court, was almost always one and 
the same, it seemed unnecessary to announce it formally. 
Secondly, — and this appears to me to be the chief rea- 
son, — such a formal statement of the Plan would have 
been evidence of study and previous preparation, the ap- 
pearance of which they avoided as carefully as they 
sought to maintain that of extemporizing. For they had 
to deal with a suspicious audience who would have at- 
tributed such previous preparation only to the design to 
deceive. But the case is different with the sacred orator, 
who may allow the diligence which he has bestowed with 

10* 



114 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE I OR 



an honest intention to continually appear in his oration, 
since he will thereby excite in the hearer only the expec- 
tation of a mass of information all the more fundamental 
for this. If, however, the sacred orator would, for any 
reason, omit the formal mention of the grounds of his 
oration, of the plan which he has sketched for himself, he 
is free to do so ; for though, indeed, it is absolutely nec- 
essary that he endeavor to arrange his thoughts in the 
clearest and best manner, it is not absolutely necessary 
that he specify beforehand how he has arranged them. 

But what is the principle upon which the Division of 
an oration should proceed? Beginning with the simple 
oration, this contains as many heads as there are princi- 
pal positions, by which the leading design of the orator 
is connected with one of the higher, or one of the subor- 
dinate Ideas, as the case may be. In the sermon of 
Reinhardt, e. g.^ entitled, " The worthy celebration of the 
Sacrament is a source of the noblest enjoyment," the 
leading design of the orator is referred solely to the Idea 
of Happiness, and is connected with it by the following 
positions : The worthy celebration of the Holy Sacra- 
ment affords us a view of our Redeemer in the most af- 
fecting greatness of his character; it wakens us to the 
consciousness of the highest of vocations ; it fills us with 
the feeling of the highest of fellowships ; it makes us alive 
to the most blessed of all hopes. If Duty is the single 
predominant Idea, the oration divides into as many heads 
as there are principal positions employed by the orator, 
to make it apparent that the state of mind, or course of 
conduct, recommended by him, is a Duty. If Virtue is 
the predominant Idea, the oration may be divided accord- 
ing to the different motives existing for the practice of a 
particular Virtue, or according to the different character- 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 115 

istic marks by which the particular Virtue is made to 
melt in, and become one, with the universal Idea of 
Virtue. 

But the simple oration may also be constructed accord- 
ing to one of the subordinate Ideas-,— Truth, Possibility, 
Actuality, — provided only its connection with the higher 
Ideas is, from the very beginning, clearly and definitely 
established. To illustrate : the false notions which Chris- 
tians form of Divine Providence, or of the efficacy of 
Prayer, stand in the way of their religious and moral de- 
velopment; from this point of view, instruction respect- 
ing Providence and the efficacy of Prayer, acccording to 
the Idea or Category of Truth, may be the only object 
of the oration. Yet, such instruction should not degen- 
erate into a complete treatise on these subjects, but the 
orator should bring forward, in his refutation or indoc- 
trination, that only which is specially important in prac- 
tical respects. 

In a political oration, the whole may be referred to the 
Idea of Possibility, in order to show that the proposition 
in question, which confessedly promotes the Common- 
Weal, is also practicable. The same may be done in 
sacred oratory, in order to weaken the force of excuses for 
commiting a fault, derived from the impossibility of 
avoiding it ; or for neglecting a virtue from the impossibil- 
ity of practising it. It is evident, moreover, that in this 
case the orator should combat those objections only, 
which the hearer actually makes, or, at least, may easily 
make. The positive reasons, on the other hand, for the 
practice of the Virtue then divide oif into main masses 
by themselves which form the parts of the oration. 

In like manner, also, the Idea of Actuality, referred to 
one of the higher Ideas, may be the predominant Idea in 



116 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

an oration, as is most commonly the case before a court 
of justice. Here, the different proofs that a thing has or 
has not happened, fall into several classes, and these are 
the parts of the oration. The old Rhetoricians, however, 
give us information on this, with a minuteness of detail 
which leaves nothing to be desired. In the sacred ora- 
tion, also. Actuality may be the sole predominant Idea ; 
first, when the orator wishes to prove a disputed fact be- 
longing to sacred history ; and, secondly, when he would 
sketch a picture of an important personage or fact, that 
shall be fruitful in practical application. In the first in- 
stance, he will maintain such a particular fact, not against 
skepticism in general, but against the doubts of his con- 
temporaries only; he will not therefore take into view the 
objections of former times, but those only that are peculiar 
to their time ; he will make a selection, accordingly, from 
the mass of proofs which are at his command, and these 
are easily divided, according to their intrinsic character, 
into certain classes and divisions. In the second instance, 
the orator brings into notice those qualities and charac- 
teristics of a person or a thing which are most congruous 
with the practical Idea, which guides the whole oration. 
Thus, Actuality is the single predominant Idea in the 
sermon of Reinhardt upon " The characteristics of the 
Church of Christ as seen in its origin ;" and he describes 
this origin as pure in its sources, miraculous in its circum- 
stances, noble in its aim, benificent in its consequences. 

A peculiarity not so much in the manner of the division 
itself, as in the way of announcing it, is found in the 
French orators, especially in Massillon. When, namely, it 
is their principal business to combat the erroneous notions 
of their hearers, — and any one of the above-mentioned 
predominant Ideas may lead to this, although the three 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 117 

higher less often than the three subordinate ; in such cases, 
I say, they are wont to announce, not those correct views 
which they wish to unfold, but the erroneous ones which 
they wish to combat. It is apparent that it amounts to 
the same thing in the end ; for the employment of this 
mode presupposes that the orator has divided the errors 
and their contrary truths into equal and correlative masses, 
and hence it makes no difference which of the two he an- 
nounces specifically. There is always, however, some- 
thing hazardous in this mode of proceeding, since it is 
easier to bring truths of which the speaker is himself 
thoroughly convinced, into a sure and certain connection, 
than the errors and doubts current among the multitude; 
and if the orator has not so arranged these as that the 
threads of a full development of the truth can be wound 
upon them, he will not combat them with success. The 
want of connection, and the breaks, so frequently to be 
noticed in Massillon's sermons, are perhaps to be attrib- 
uted to this manner of arranging the parts of an oration, 
which became an almost uniform habit with him ; hence 
only the practised and skilful orator, and ho only rarely, 
should make use of this manner. It is always safest for 
the orator to present in the very outset his own conviction, 
having some reference however to prevalent errors, and 
to combat these only when, they come up of themselves 
in the 4evelopment of his own thoughts. 

But the complex oration, in which several Ideas are 
placed beside each other in equal importance, is of more 
frequent occurrence than the simple oration, of the divis- 
ion of which we have been speaking. It is apparent, at 
the first glance, that this species of oration conducts, with 
much more force and certainty, to the end in view, than 
the other. For, if the orator brings his leading Idea int^ 



118 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

connection with those of the hearer, only on one side, it 
is very possible for him to fail in the attempt to show its 
identity with them. In order to win over the hearer com- 
pletely, the orator must lead him continually to one and 
the same goal from several points ; the orator's Idea, if I 
may be allowed the expression, must continue to wind 
around the Idea of the hearer until it has become com- 
pletely incorporated with it. 

It is evident, now, that the complex oration has as 
many parts as there are predominant Ideas in it ; and each 
one of these parts, again, may be regarded as a simple 
oration, and be divided according to the same rules, so 
that that which forms a main division in the simple ora- 
tion, becomes a subdivision in the complex. A common 
method, here, is to begin with the Category of Truth or 
Actuality, in order to throw due light over the subject of 
which the orator would treat, and then, in order to waken 
a higher interest, to follow up with the Idea of Virtue, 
Happiness, or Duty. This is the almost too uniform 
mode of division, when the orator speaks, first, of the na- 
ture, and, secondly, of the effects. But unless the Cate- 
gories Truth and Actuality are handled by a very skil- 
ful master, discourse based upon them often becomes 
somewhat cold and tedious, and the hearer remains indif- 
ferent towards a subject of which the orator indeed gives 
right conceptions, but the relation of which to the higher 
demands of his moral nature he does not make plain to 
him. Or else the orator, conscious himself of this cold- 
ness and dryness, allows himself to be led into the error 
of interweaving into this part of his oration those higher 
means of movinar his hearers which should not be em- 
ployed until later ; and in this way he oversteps the limits 
which he has prescribed for himself, and anticipates the 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 119 

contents of the divisions which are to follow, which he is 
now unable to fill out. Instead, therefore, of placing Truth 
and Actuality in an equal rank with the higher ethical 
Ideas, it may often be more suitable to subordinate them 
to these ; to make Happiness, Duty, or Virtue, principal 
parts, and to insert the representation of Trath and Ac- 
tuality only when the need of it becomes plainly apparent 
in the course of the development of those higher Ideas. 
But, again, there are some subjects in which the Idea of 
Truth or Actuality has such a decided preponderance, 
that the orator must make it predominant throughout his 
oration, and must interweave what he has to say respect- 
ing Happiness, Virtue, and Duty, in the individual devel- 
opments of the True or the Actual. 

In this way, the six Rhetorical Ideas are associated 
with each other in an order and interchange the most 
manifold. The counter-action which the orator expects 
from the hearer, determines him to begin now with this 
and now with that Idea, and to follow up with the others, 
thus or so ; and hence no universal rule can be laid down 
regarding a Plan of this sort, since existing circumstances 
and relations have so great influence upon it. The Plan 
is, in fact, a resolution which the moral powers form, and 
which is shaped by the peculiar occasions and induce- 
ments which lead to it. 

The course and movement of Ideas in a great orator 
animates to a similar ])regnant and powerful movement 
in the auditor, in the same way that the example of the 
hero animates to virtue. Demosthenes, e. g"., in the first 
oration against Philip, begins with the Category of Pos- 
sibility ; he shows how a more fortunate issue may be 
expected in the case of further expeditions ; and as he pro- 
ceeds, the doubts of his hearers vanish, their breasts swell, 



120 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

and fill with heart and hope. But the orator does not 
stop with considerations of a general nature; he goes into 
detail, and lays before the people a circumstantial plan of 
all that is to be done. In this way he satisfies the under- 
standings of his heavers, elevates their minds, and renders 
them open to the higher Ideas of State-weal, and of Civic 
Merit, by which they are ncnv carried captive at the will 
of the orator. But there is no course and movement of 
Ideas of such irresistible power as the one in the oration 
for Ctesiphon, in which, in accordance with the Category 
of Possibility, it is first shown that the speaker could not 
by any possibility have foreseen the issue of the battle at 
Chseronea, and then the Idea of Virtue follows w^ith a 
startling rapidity, — the orator affirming that, even if he 
had foreseen all, he should nevertheless have given no dif- 
ferent counsel. The well-known division of Cicero's ora- 
tion for Milo, according to the Ideas of Actuality and 
Legality, has some resemblance to the wonderful method 
of this oration of Demosthenes. 

In the oration of Demosthenes upon the affairs of the 
Chersonesus, the Idea of Public Advantage is not con- 
nected, but entangled, with that of Civil Law, in a highly 
singular manner. For, w^hile according to the former 
he shows that the army which Diopeithes commanded in 
that country, should not be disbanded, he, at the same 
time, according to the latter, exculpates their general 
with respect to the acts of violence with which he was 
charged, — a procedure to which he was probably com- 
pelled by the circumstances of the case, and which he 
carries through with extraordinary self-confidence, but 
which I would recommend no one to imitate, since, of 
Ideas thus entangled, the one commonly would be prej- 
udicial to the other. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 121 



CHAPTER XIV. 

FIRST FEATURES TOWARDS A SKETCH OF THE ORATOR. 

It has been remarked, respecting the science of Mor- 
als, that there are three points from which it may be 
contemplated, and that a complete philosophic presenta- 
tion of it is rendered possible only by coimecting these' 
different views. INIorals, in the first place, may be re- 
garded as the enumeration of all those commandments 
derived from the one highest law, by which the will 
ought to be directed, and of the duties imposed by them. 
Secondly, the question may arise with respect to that 
character in the agent, which inclines or enables him to 
fulfil all these duties; and developed in this direction, 
the science of IMorals becomes a presentation of ideal 
virtue, or of ideal virtues. In the third place, again, the 
product may be contemplated, which perfect virtue pro- 
duces by the fulfilment of all its duties, and this becomes 
the chief object in view, under the names of prosperity, 
happiness, the highest good. But, instead of connect- 
ing in one, these three different views, writers upon Mor- 
als commonly make but one of them prominent in their 
theories, which, consequently, must be one-sided and 
unsatisfactory. For does not the sum-total of all the 
different and scattered virtues presuppose an active agent, 
in whom they can concentrate and come into actual 
practice ; and when this agent is seen acting, what is 
more natural than the inquiry after the product of his 
activity ? 

11 



122 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE : OR, 

We make these well-known statements, in the first 
place, in order, by placing the three different forms of 
the system of Morals beside the three highest Rhetorical 
Ideas mentioned by us, to justify our having assumed 
these latter as fundamental Ideas ; and in the second 
place, still more, for the reason that these fundamental 
Ideas furnish rules for the treatment of Rhetoric as a 
system. If Rhetoric, as we affirm, is only a more gen- 
eral unfolding of Morals, the selection of one particular 
point of view, alone, would be a fault in Rhetoric, as 
well as in Morals, and the combination of all the points 
of view becomes as necessary in the former as it is in 
the latter. We have thus far developed that part of 
Morals which is called Rhetoric, from the Idea of Duty, 
as a point of view. For we began with laying down a 
law, of which we have pointed out the application, and 
from which we have derived several individual rules ; 
and we have believed it necessary to take this method, 
for the sake of greater intelligibleness. Cicero and 
Quintilian, — to compare those Philosophers who have 
developed Morals from the Idea of Virtue, as a point of 
departure, — it seems to us, have chiefly in view the 
representation of the model orator, whom Quintilian 
describes even from the time of his first instruction in 
school. Bat their representations are somewhat ambigu- 
ous, since, although in this way of treating the subject, 
we are, indeed, made sufficiently acquainted with the 
character and qualities of the orator, we can yet form 
no definite conception of his activity, because the rule 
by which it is to be judged of remains unknown. If, 
now, as we have said above, we have sought to avoid 
this fault by laying down firm fundamental principles, 
we must also guard against falling into the opposite 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 123 

error of forgetting the character and qualities of the 
orator. The representation of these is the more impor- 
tant, since it might seem as if the mere knowledge and 
siviiful application of the rules laid down by us were 
sufficient for the orator, and as if his moral character 
and qualities were to receive no farther notice; which, 
if it were actually the case, would frustrate our endeavor 
to construct Rhetoric as a part of Morals. But such is 
not the case; and furthermore, it is impossible to follow 
all these rules, unless there be moral strength of charac- 
ter, unless there be virtue, and, in the case of the sacred 
orator, unless there be the inner life of faith. 

For the distinctive agency of the orator consists in 
giving a powerful impulse and direction to the minds of 
others, and he is not equal to this unless the goal to 
which he would direct them is plainly in his eye, and 
unless he earnestly desires to reach it himself. In a 
word, he must possess, so to speak, the faculty of moral 
Ideas, and these belong to character. The imagination, 
it is true, generates those Ideas from which the creations 
in the sphere of Art proceed ; although, even in the case 
of Art, as it seems to me, the products are always some- 
what lacking in body and firmness, unless they are set 
up by character. But, inasmuch, as the Will is the 
object which Eloquence seeks to influence, Eloquence 
must originate in the Will, in the moral state of the 
orator. Take the sacred orator, for instance : where 
will he find matter for his discourses, if his owm sanctifi- 
cation, if the moral and religious condition of men 
does not lie near his heart, if he does not earnestly desire 
to improve human character? In him alone who is 
animated by these motives, who labors upon himself, 
and contemplates men around him with the design of 



124 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

elevating them to a higher degree of perfection, only in 
such an one will Ideas that may be referred and applied 
easily to the highest aim and end of the human Will, 
be generated in their constant and abounding fulness ; 
and such Ideas are, beyond question, motive-powers 
moral and Christian in their nature. Nay, they presup- 
pose a higher grade of morality, one that is raised far 
above that which is commonly called virtue, — the mere 
abstaining, namely, from vice, and an irreproachable life. 
For if it is morally beautiful to will, at all times, that 
which is Highest and Worthiest, for its own sake, it is 
still more beautiful by far, to desire at the same time, in 
connection with this, that which is Highest and Worthi- 
est for all mankind. This desire may be wanting in a 
man, and he not be morally bad in his life ; but a far 
higher degree of moral perfection must be ascribed to 
him of whom it is the sole and actuating principle. 
Hence it is certainly no envious complaint, when a 
sacred oration is charged with being wanting in such 
moral Ideas as alone can beget a disposition of soul 
that is constantly employed in promoting the well-being 
of humanity. To give expression to one's self merely, 
to depict certain favorite views with self-complacency, 
cannot be represented as a vice exactly ; but it is cer- 
tainly proof of an imperfect nature, which is not able to 
forget itself, and to live only in the well-being of others; 
it indicates a want of that higher character by which 
the orator produces the stuff and material employed by 
him, and which, since the creative power in man is 
designated generally by the term genius, we would style 
moral genius. In vain, therefore, is the command : 
" Hefer your Ideas to the highest human Ideas," ad- 
dressed to him who, absorbed in his own emotions, 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 125 

fancies and notions, does not feel the heroic impulse to 
seize upon the hearts of men, and to mould them into a 
nobler state; for he is lacking in the first and most 
necessary things, — in Ideas, — and instead of these, he 
will play with figures, dissolve in soft emotion, or bring 
forward information, which is quite entertaining, it may 
be, but which produces no effect upon the Will. 

That which is true of the sacred orator, is true a^^o of 
the civil orator. If he does not cling with disinterested 
love to his father-land, and is nob impelled by this love 
to study closely the internal relations of his country, and 
to mark attentively the changes in its foreign relations, 
how is he, in important and difficult emergencies, to 
acquire correct views and to form salutary plans, with- 
out delay ? He will be dumb, as was the case with 
the Athenian orators, on hearing that Philip had taken 
Elatsea. "For," as Demosthenes said, "that day and 
that occasion demanded a man who had traced events 
from the beginning, and had formed a correct conclusion 
for what reason and for what end Philip had done that." 
And how had Demosthenes, the only one who spoke on 
this day, obtained this keener insight, except through his 
love of country, in which respect he was in advance of 
all his fellow-citizens ? It miy indeed be said, that in 
the absence of love of country, self-interest, hatred and 
friendship, preconceived opinions, political systems, will 
not leave the orator destitute of ideas and plans. Per- 
haps not ; but here the great difficulty presents itself, 
that these very designs are to be subjected to the highest 
ends of the State, and not of the individual will ; and 
this must be uncommonly difficult to accomplish, if they 
did not spring up in dependence upon and subjection to, 
the Common Weal, but were suggested by other and 

11* 



\ 



126 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE; OR, 

less noble motives. In order that his selfish plans may 
succeed, the orator, as has been remarked, must bring 
them into connection with the highest moral Ideas ; and 
if this connection is not a natural, but a forced one, 
talent of the first order will often fail in the endeavor to 
carry through the deception,* and the web of its argu- 
ment will be torn into shreds by another orator, who 
perhape speaks with less power, but whose Ideas have 
grown up out of the ground and soil of patriotism. A 
fine instance of this is afforded in the two orations, 
which, according to Sallust, Avere delivered by Cagsar 
and Cato in the Roman Senate, respecting the punish- 
ment of the fellow-conspirators of CatiUne. What can 
be finer than the arrangement of Caesar's oration ; how 
cunningly does he understand how to render the Ideas 
of magnanimity, positive law, and public advantage, 
available in a case in which it was his sole aim to sup- 
port the mere instruments of his own ambitious plans I 
"With less art, but with greater power, the honest Cato 
forces his way through, and the whole Senate sides with 
him. And thus, finally, by our own examination and 
by the example of the younger Cato, that definition of 
the orator is justified, which, according to Quintilian,f 
originated with the elder Cato, and which is indisputa- 
bly the best that has come down to us from antiquity, 
viz.: T^ie orator is cui upright man luJio understands 
speaking. 

^ A wrong design is betrayed by the contradictions in the course and 
connection of thought. 'ETrezSiy tis, OL/xai, KOLKovpycop iiri jx"^ irpo(T7]KouTa 
irpdyibLaTa Tohs x6yovs inerapepT], ducrx^p^'^s avayKr] faiyecy^ai' — Demostk. ad- 
versus Leptinem, p. 100, ed. Wolf. 

t lastit. XII. 1. 



BOOK II. 

ON ELOCUTION 



CHAPTER I. 

AFFECTION AND PASSION. 



Before we proceed further, let iis cast a glance over 
the path which we have opened. 

It was our design to seek for a fundamental principle, 
that should bring unity and connection into the frag- 
mentary and disconnected theory of Eloquence. In order 
to this, we made one of the characteristics of Elo- 
quence, the striving to produce an influence outwardly, 
its essential characteristic, and in this way found that it 
stands upon an ethical basis and ground, and is an 
active process ; that, as it proceeds only from Ideas, it 
can address itself only to Ideas. The development of 
this single thought has already led us to important 
results, and has combined into a systematic unity many 
assertions which in the common theories of Eloquence 
are laid down without proof; and we have also been 
enabled by it to correct many errors in the prevailing 
views on this subject. We have seen that there is but 
one Eloquence, and that civil Eloquence is connected 
with sacred by the unity of its constituent principle, 



128 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

although each is differently modified by the particular 
relation in which it moves ; that the Ancients, in con- 
formity with a feeling in the highest degree correct, have 
assumed three species of Eloquence, corresponding to the 
three highest Ideas ; by laying down Truth as a subordi- 
nate Rhetorical Idea, we have found again one of the 
characteristics of Eloquence, its inclination to Philoso- 
phy, but, at the same time, as we flatter ourselves, have 
thrown some light upon the difficult question respecting 
the dividing line between Philosophy and Eloquence ; 
we have given rules respecting the plan and division of 
an oration which proceed according to Ideas, and, there- 
fore, are preferable to the common method of division, 
which proceeds merely according to fragmentary concep- 
tions ; and, finally, in order to justify our ethical view, 
we have in different places made it apparent that the 
orator is capacitated for the performance of his proper 
business only by means of a truly moral state of heart. 
And thus, as we believe, has our ethical principle 
maintained itself, so far as that part of Rhetoric is con- 
cerned which embraces the doctrine of Invention and 
Arrangement ; for all the rules which can properly be 
given respecting these subjects flow directly from the 
fundamental law laid down by us, which, in its develop- 
ment, has shown not only how each and everything in 
this part of Eloquence should be, but also why it should 
be so, and not otherwise. To maintain this principle 
with respect to that part of Rhetoric which is now to 
follow, — with respect to Elocution, so called, — seems a 
work of greater difficulty. For since the excitement of 
the Affections, or at least of the Passions, is that with 
which we have to do here, how, it may be asked, is this 
to take its origin from an ethical principle, nay, even to 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 129 

be justified before it ? Furthermore, we are here, and 
rightly too, to expect the outlines at least, of a theory of 
Prose; and it would seem that an ethical principle could 
in no way lead to it. It does, indeed, seem so; but it is 
seeming merely ; for, in fact, this part of Rhetoric con- 
stitutes the very triumph of the ethical view, since prob- 
lems are solved by it which can be solved by no other 
view. 

But we mnst, in 1he first place, express our regret at 
the errors by which this part of the subject has been dis- 
figured, and for which the- Ancients, properly, are respon- 
sible, who, since they are now universally lauded, must 
here, at least, take home a merited blame. This blame 
falls, first, upon the Rhetoricians, who again can throw 
the accusation back upon the orators themselves, or 
rather, upon the circumstances amidst which they spoke. 
Ancient Eloquence owed its power and definiteness 
principally to the rapidity with which the effect followed 
immediately after the oration was ended ; but in this 
very circumstance lay also a source of degeneration. 
For, since thfe orator contended for honor, property, and 
life, and since the possession or loss of these depended 
upon the effect of the oration, he would, in this his strait, 
find every means good, of whatever sort, provided it only 
led to the end in view ; and he who could get hold of no 
noble means, must often content himself with bad ones, 
satisfied, if he only attained his end, and not considering 
that he would have attained it with much more cer- 
tainty had he employed worthier means. Hence the 
orators allowed themselves in artifices of many sorts, in 
order to deceive the judges and the people, to dazzle 
them and excite their passions. This practice, which of 
necessity, must often succeed, passed over into the 



130 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR 



theory of Eloquence, which, in this instance, as generally, 
was not able to rise above the existing practice. The 
artifices for stimulating the minds of the hearers were 
collected together and arranged in a connected series; 
and rhetoricians, who held the excitement of the passions 
to be necessary in their art, taught for this end, not 
the training of the mind, to use Plato's phrase,* but the 
actual deceiving of the mind. Aristotle does this in the 
section of his Rhetoric where he treats of the Passions ; 
and Cicero speaks of the means which he employs for 
exciting them with a frankness at which we cannot but 
be surprised-! 

But it is, perhaps, equally surprising that these writers, 
and those who have harmonized with them in sentiment, 
should have been implicitly believed, and that these arti- 
fices should have been held necessary and indispensable 
in secular Eloquence at least. The example of Demos- 
thenes alone, it seems to me, could not but have led to 
the thought that Ihey might be dispensed with, and that 
other means might be employed in their stead, which 
are not only much nobler but also much more reliable. 
If this orator had written a Rhetoric, it would certainly 
have been different from Cicero's rhetorical writings, and 
have been not unworthy of his instructor Plato, who, in 
the Gorgias, lays down such a strict view of Eloquence. 
But the Eloquence of Demosthenes, like his character, 
possesses an elevation, which, of necessity, must fail of 
being apprehended ; and owing to their inability to 
rightly estimate the rhetorical means which he employs, 



* ^vxoLyuyia. — Phcedrus, p. 331 ed. Heindorf. 

t Qua (miseratione) nos ita dolcntcr usi sumus, tit puerum infantcm in 
manibus, perorantes tenuerinius ; ut alia in causa, excitato reo nobili, sublato 
etiam filio parvo, plangore et lamentatione complerimus forum. Orator c. 38. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 131 

the Ancients, and we after them, have believed to have 
detected the very same artifices in him, which are plainly 
apparent in other orators. 

In order to prepare the way for this part of Rhetoric, 
it is necessary to enter upon a psychological investi- 
gation, and to establish a distinction between two things, 
which, though very different from each other, are yet 
commonly confounded with each other, — namely, be- 
tween Affection and Passion. The movements in our 
minds differ very much in their nature, their duration, 
and their importance, according as they are produced by 
external objects, or are generated from within outwards. 
An external object, or the representation of it, excites, if 
we desire or loathe it, a movement within us which is 
rightly called Passion, since we are passive in the matter, 
and yield ourselves up to an influence which operates 
upon us from without. This condition of the soul can- 
not, in strictness, be justified, since it supposes the inac- 
tivity of the Reason, a power which, indeed, cannot 
always prevent the reception of impressions from without, 
but which should, nevertheless, limit, elevate, and, if 
they are injurious, suppress them. Moreover, this inward 
condition is, in its nature, unquiet, perplexed, and pain- 
ful to the mind, which is always troubled by the feeling 
of dependence upon external objects, and in its duration 
it is transient, since it is produced by a transitory object. 
Entirely different from this, is that excitement of the 
mind which owes its origin to an Idea; I call it Affec- 
tion, (Affekt,) and not Passion, since the mind in this 
case affects itself through its own reflex activity^ instead 
of passively receiving an impression from without, as in 
the other case. Yet this term Affection, which renders 
me liable to misapprehension, and is not, by any means, 



132 

adequate, I employ only because I know of no better 
one. 'What, however, I mean by it, will be clear from 
what follows. A mind in which an Idea has become 
living consciousness, cannot possibly retain that coldness 
which accompanies mere abstract representations or 
conceptions; for since the Idea contains within itself Ihe 
notion of an activity of some sort, and the impulse to if, 
it must necessarily appropriate to itself all the powers of 
the soul, and set them in motion in one definite direc- 
tion; and from this united working of all the faculties, 
from the exertion accompanying it, an inward state 
must arise, distinguished by a higher degree of warmth 
and life. In case a creation in the domain of Art results 
from 1he Idea, this inward state is denominated poetic or 
artistic inspiraiion, and is universally recognized and 
esteemed as fine and beautiful in its nature. But the 
same warmth and glow attends upon all ethical Ideas 
which strive to break forth into activity; nothing but the 
mere nes^ative refrainino- from evil can have coldness 
of soul as its attendant ; he who strives to produce 
something great and good, will never be without ardor, 
without affection. Yet we should never apply the name 
Passion to this fine mental manifestation; this term in- 
dicates the inactivity of the higher spiritual powers, 
while, on the contrary, Affection as distinguished from 
Passion, supposes the highest activity of the Reason, 
which is Ihe parent of Ideas. Furthermore, the warmth 
of Passion is obscure and vague, — to use a comparison, 
is like a dimly burning fire; Affection, on the contrary, 
constan^tly conscious, constantly attentive to the slightest 
hint of Reason, capable of checking itself in the midst of 
the most rapid course, is to be compared to the sun-light, 
which brings even more clearness than warmth with it. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 133 

For this reason, and also because Affection does not, 
like Passion, divide the mind into two contending parties, 
but unites all the powers of the soul, and all the emo- 
tions of the heart, in finest harmony with the Reason, ir 
\:i ihe happiest state by far to which man can raise him- 
self That it is also a perfectly moral state, it soerns 
unnecessary to add. It is, especially when generated by 
elhicrd Ideas, man's moral nature itself, and that, loo, in 
its finest splendor, its highest dignity, and elevated far 
above tliat coldness of soul which is sometin^ies denomi- 
nated rational, alihough \y\ih great injusiice, ^in(•e a 
powerful activity of the Reason must necessarily banish 
all coldness. Finally, Affedion is distingui^{led frotn 
Passion, by the fact that the i\)riner is as permanent as 
the latter is transient. For since tlie Idea which gener- 
ates it can nev(T be exhausted by a single exhibition, but 
only by a continued series Ox^ exhibitions, and, therefore, 
has a long-continued existence, nay, if it is a niorai Idea, 
an eternal existence, for the contemplating mind, it im- 
parts tliis attribute and duration to the mental affection 
whic:h accompanies it. 

Instead, however, of duly distinguishing between two 
mental manifestations so diverse as those above de- 
scribed, it is too common to denominate everything as 
Passionate, that is attended with any degree of fire and 
life ; and it often happens that that which is beautiful 
and excellent in the highest degree, is degraded by the 
debasing conception which is connected \\ith this word. 
We should, thcTcfore, never ascribe to one who is given 
up to an art, or a science, as soon as he is capable of 
producing something widrin its sphere, by his own inde- 
pendent power, a Passit)n for this art or science ; his love 
is an AiTection which is generated by Ideas; and he, 

12 



134 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR 

alone, has a Passion for an art who merely desires to 
contemplate its creations for the sake of the pleasure 
they produce, without being excited to any activity of 
spirit by them. In the social relations of men, also, not 
all love is Passion. Love is Passion, or Lust, only when 
it strives after the possession of the loved object, as after 
the possession of a piece of property which it wishes to 
obtain and hold; it is something far higher, it is Affec- 
tion, so soon as the Idea of a perpetual connection comes 
to lie at the bottom of it; an Idea which is neither dis- 
turbed by separating circumstances, nor grov/s cold from 
the earthly possession of the object. Speaking gener- 
ally, the action of man should never be Passionate, but 
always Affectionate ; it should never betray the fire which 
an external object has kindled, but should be constantly 
animated by that mild and clear warmth which accom- 
panies all that springs from the inward depths of the 
spirit. And thus let us, in Eloquence also, distinguish 
the discourse of a man who is filled with an Idea, which 
he would impart to others in an equal degree of clearness 
and warmth, from the effort, ever to be condemned, to 
awaken their Passions. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 135 



CHAPTER 11. 

THE DUTY OF THE ORATOR TO SPEAK WITH AFFECTION 
AND TO AWAKEN AFFECTION. 

Having, in the foregoing, shown that true AfTeciion as 
distinguished from Passion, is never morally wrong, but 
is always to be regarded as intrinsically beautiful and 
excellent, we now go still farther, and affirjji, that it is 
absolutely necessary that the orator speak with Affection. 
For he goes before an assembly only in order to impart 
to it the Idea by which he is himself pervaded ; and this 
Idea, if it actually be an Idea, must be accompanied 
with Affection. If we find the orator wanting in this, 
we are justified in assuming that he is not animated by 
an Idea; that he seems ^o purpose and undertake some- 
thing, but in reality has no definite purpose, and, there- 
fore, is in contradiction with himself; that he pursues 
his business from necessity merely, like a day-laborer, 
or from by-ends like a demagogue, or from cold and 
chilling vanity, like a mere fine speaker ; and any one of 
these assumptions, if just and w^arranted, will prevent 
the hearer from respecting the man or opening his heart 
to him. What we have said, moreover, respecting the 
difierence between Affection and Passion, will, it is 
hoped, protect us from the charge of demanding in the 
orator, feverish heat, sickly emotion, or strained anima- 
tion ; we demand warmth with thoughtfulness, feeling 
with reason, emphasis without distortion, light and fire 
without vapor, — fine qualities, which even the common 



136 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE; OR, 

hearer knows how to estimate, and readily distinguishes 
from the extravagant and artificial. 

Every one who has ever come before the people, filled 
with a great Idea, has spoken with Affection; but with 
the greatest Affection by far. He who gave utterance to 
the greatest Ideas, namely, Christ. This Light of the 
World reveals eternal truth with an abiding inspiration, 
which is at one time mild and gentle, at another with 
thunder and crash; a great example for every sacred 
orator, and one that warrants him in dispensing with all 
so called philosophical calmness, and obligates him to 
speak with similar Affection. 

Supposing, now, that there are means whereby Affec- 
tion can be communicated to others, it is plain that the 
use of these means can never be injurious, but always 
and only beneficial. For they never rouse up mere blind 
feeling to a life and energy that renders Reason inactive; 
on the contrary, mere blind feeling is held in subordina- 
tion, since the orator compels it to cooperate towards 
his ends, and in this way, there arises inward harmony, 
which is man's most perfect condition. The fear, also, 
that the orator may go too far in exciting Affection, 
seems to me to be entirely unfounded; for Affection is 
generated by a stronger activity of the Reason, in which 
there can be no excess, and the calm thought must 
at every moment lead back within its proper limits the 
discursive feeling. Passion m»st certainly may become 
too strong, or rather, it should never become so ; but how 
the Ideas of the moral Reason can be accompanied with 
too lively Affection, or how it is possible for these same 
Ideas, sonctified by religion, to seize upon the mind with 
too great power, I, at least, cannot imagine. The orator, 
therefore, if he is able to excite Affection, need prescribe 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 137 

no limits to himself while making the attempt; owing 
to human weakness, instead of going too far, he will 
ordinarily have to blame himself for having done too 
little. And if it is objected that Affection, like every 
lively frame of the soul, is transitory, I ask whether it is 
for this reason, merely, to be deemed worthless, and 
whether every single hour which is spent in the feeling 
of enthusiasm for the Highest and Best is not a positive 
gain, and a beautiful reward for the soul that'is the sub- 
ject of it? But this objection is without foundation; 
for Affection owes its existence to the heightened activity 
of Reason alone ; and Reason, by means of the fuller 
development it has received in the process, is always of 
itself, independently, able to reproduce Affection. 

Invariably excluding everything Passionate, and as- 
suming that Affection can be imparted to the hearer, we 
can now, without any opposition whatever, we hope, lay 
down the assertion, that it is the duty of the orator to 
awaken Affection. In case, either from principle or from 
inability, he disclaims this obligation, his activity must 
be limited to that of which we have treated in the First 
Book ; namely, to proving that the particular Idea of his 
oration is contained in the general Idea of the hearer, 
and that the hearer, if he wills Duty, or Virtue, or Happi- 
ness, must also will this or that procedure to which 
these Ideas lead. But what is accomplished by this? 
As good as nothing. This might indeed do, if in man, 
knowing, willing, and doing, were one and the same act. 
In this case, he would only need to know that he ought 
to will, in order to will, and would only need to will, in 
order to do. But such is not the case. There is a cold 
abstract knowing which generates no willing; there is a 
feeble willing which never passes over into doing. But 

12* 



138 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

to what does this cold knowing and this feeble willing 
lead, and how can the orator be satisfied with producing 
it? For the very reason, that something is to be accom- 
plished which is not yet accomplished ; for the very 
reason that he finds the State and the Church in a cor- 
rupt, or at least an imperfect condition, and would have 
it changed for the better; for this, and no other reason, 
does he come forward as an orator ; this is the end 
towards which he must labor, if he would not be in con- 
tradiction with himself; and if he does not attain it, he 
has spoken in vain. But in order to attain it, it is neces- 
sary, that the Idea of the hearer be raised to such a 
grade of vitality as that it can immediately pass over 
into act; for that blazing up of all the inward powers 
which we denominate Affection, indicates the moment 
when the Idea is breaking ihrough and coming forth 
into Actuality. If the capacity of being conscious of 
ethical Ideas must be predicated of every man, and yet 
very few act in accordance with Ideas, this is only 
because Affection is wanting in them, the very link itself, 
which, in the chain of human activity, connects willing 
with doing. The sentiment which the orator labors to 
produce in his hearers, and the resolution which he seeks 
to have them take, are to be brought about immediately, 
not only when he speaks before the judge or before his 
fellow-citizens, but also when he speaks before a Chris- 
tian assembly. For if it is not brought about immedi- 
ately, when will it be? At another time?- But why 
defer that which is in itself good ? Or would the orator 
merely enlighten and cultivate the Reason under the con- 
viction that well regulated action will then be developed 
of itself, from it? But experience proves the contrary; 
it shows us men of very cultivated Reason who either do 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 139 

not act at all, or act wrongly. And, moreover, how is 
this gradual cultivation possible in the case of the orator, 
to v\'hom, at this one particular moment, a mind is sur- 
rendering itself, which perhaps will never again fall with- 
in the sphere of his influence? Js nothing at all to be 
done for such an one, and how long is the orator to 
wait for something to be developed of itself, from the 
audience before him ? Their ethical Ideas they bring 
with them ; they are therefore, at this moment, just as 
susceptible to every good influence, as they will be 
years hence ; for it is the individual who changes, the 
mass, on the whole, is ever the same. The objection in 
question proceeds from the false supposition that it is 
necessary for the orator to laboriously impart to men 
that intelligence which lies at the bottom of action ; but 
he is spared this labor, since every man by nature 
possesses the ethical Ideas. Perhaps there is sometimes 
in the orator, as in the hearer, an aversion towards 
the exhibition of Affection, which conceals itself behind 
these objections, but which, after what has been said, 
can hardly pass as praiseworthy. 

If now it be asked, in what does the business of the 
orator properly consist, — in conviction or persuasion, — 
I confess that I can -declare decidedly neither for the 
one nor for the other, and that it seems to me the ques- 
tion ought not to be asked, since it is based upon a false 
view of Eloquence. So far as conviction is concerned, 
this is by no means sufficient to constitute the substance 
of Eloquence, if by it is understood the proof that the 
particular Idea of the orator is contained in the general 
Idea of the hearer. But this is hardly the meaning 
given to the word ; it is generally taken to denote a 
demonstration, by means of which the whole philosophic 



140 

connection of thought in the orator is impressed on 
the hearer, in order that he may be excited to one 
particular act. Conviction of this sort seems to me to 
be an impossibility, and I believe that the best dialec- 
tician has not yet succeeded in entirely bringing over 
his opponent to his own standing-point. But even if it 
were a possibility, I should deem it useless for the orator 
to start from the highest principles of all knowledge and 
action, when he might directly, and with entire certainty 
of success, fasten on upon the ethical Ideas. It were 
also sad, in the highest degree, to be compelled to go 
through with a course in Philosophy with a man ia order 
to move him to the performance of a good action. But 
this part of the subject, as I believe, has been sufficiently 
explained in the First Book. I can as little approve of 
persuasion, if by it is understood the distortion or dark- 
ening of representations, in order to excite the Passions ; 
no able orator will betake himself to this means, and 
we have shown that he has no need to do so. If, how- 
ever, conviction may be taken to denote the production 
of the Idea in consciousness, and persuasion its eleva- 
tion and transformation into Affection, — which, how- 
ever, as I believe, the common use of language does not 
permit, — I would answer the question above by saying, 
that the business of the orator consists neither in convic- 
tion nor persuasion alone; but that his conviction should 
be persuasive, and his persuasion convincing. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 141 



CHAPTER III. 

THE DIFFERENT KINDS OF AFFECTION. 

Before we proceed to treat of the means of exciting 
the Affections, we must first become acquainted with 
the ditlerent kinds of Affections. Affection is not always 
one and the same ; for, in the first place, the Ideas upon 
which it attends, although all of them of an ethical 
nature, may be very different from each other. In the 
second place, the character and qualities, as well of the 
subject or agent in whom the Idea is generated as of the 
object to which it is referred, vary. For example, the 
Idea of Duty may be generated in a guilty or in an inno- 
cent mind, may be applied to a guilty or an innocent 
man ; and in relations so dissimilar, the Affection aris- 
insf from the enlivenment of this Idea must asume 
different hues. Finally, in the third place, several Affec- 
tions, in themselves different, may flow together, and by 
their union, form a third. The knowledge of these dif- 
ferent kinds of Affections seems to us to be necessary, 
since, without it, it will be impossible to determine 
whether the means of exciting the Affections which we 
shall present, are sufficient or not. Thip knowledge will 
also enable us the better to distinguish the Affections 
from the Passions, — a distinction upon which I lay the 
greatest stress, since only through its observance can 
Eloquence be restored again to its proper rank. Indeed, 
it does not escape me, that I am here entering upon the 
dangerous ground of Psychology, so called, from which 
perhaps the fragments of so many unsuccessful under- 



142 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

takings in the department of Rhetoric ought to deter 
me ; yet the safe clue with which I venture into this 
domain, will perhaps preserve me from a similar failure. 
It is true, that nothing can be done in Psychology, if that 
observation of self and of otliers, from which it draws 
its truths, is pursued at hap-hazard, and without leading 
principles. But here we have something firm, universal, 
and sure, in the ethical Ideas, which we bring down into 
the lower region (so to speak) of the mind, only in order 
to observe what will result from their contact with the 
natural feelings and the different inward states of men. 
In this, or in a similar way, it may perhaps not be im- 
possible to distinguish and to designate satisfactorily all 
the different movements in the mind which so interpen- 
etrate and run through each other, and which no so- 
called empirical Psychology has as yet systematized. 
Yet, what we shall be able to do here can be regarded 
as only a slight contribution towards such an undertak- 
ing. 

With regard now to the Idea of Duty, it is apparent 
that the inward state of a man who is warmed and 
enlivened by it, and who strives with all his powers to 
realize it in conduct, must be remarked as a peculiar Af- 
fection. It is denominated Zea/, and it is naturally the 
strongest in him who regards the law which he obeys 
from love, as a truly divine law; it is weaker in degree, 
yet not essentially different, in the mind of him who 
receives the law by which he regulates his conduct, from 
the State solely, or who believes that he imposes it upon 
himself. If, however, man does not strive after the 
realization of an Idea, but after the possession of an 
outward good, his Zeal, which at first was an Affection, 
degenerates into Passion. If the Idea of Duty has been 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 143 

suppressed for a long time in a man's mind, and again 
acquires dominion within it, it begets, with reference to 
his past faulty state Shame and Repentance^ \he liveliness 
of which, like that of Zeal, is in proportion to the 
seriousness of the sphere in which the Duty is conceived 
to be obligatory, and which, like the Affection of Zeal, 
would cease to be pure Affections, if the individual, 
instead of charging himself with the positive neglect of 
duty, should charge upon himself merely the neglect to 
make use of a favorable opportunity to promote some 
earthly advantage. The perception, in the case of 
another, of the difference between what he actually does 
and what he ought to do, excites in different degrees the 
Affection of Anger^ which, in order to remain a pure 
Affection, must never go farther than to the bad action 
itself, and which becomes a Passion so soon as it is 
directed against the person of the agent. 

The Idea of Virtue, whether its perfection in God, in 
Christ, or the approximation to its perfection in a good 
man, be considered, through the Affection accompanying 
it becomes Love, Friendship, Esteem, Benevolence, Emu- 
lation, Admiration. These are pure expressions, from 
which the common use of language has already banished 
every notion of passionateness, with the exception only, 
that by Love is not always meant an Affection generated 
by the Idea of Virtue, for an object in which this Idea is 
perfectly or in part realized, but often, also, a passionate 
desire for that which stimulates unnaturally. Love, as 
an Affection, has the Godhead for its highest object, with 
which it strives to unite and become one, and can pass 
over to a human being only in case the human being 
manifests something divine. Accordingly, it is more 
perfect in its nature than Friendship, since it reveringly 



144 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR 

recognizes the whole individuality of the loved object, 
while Friendship, on the contrary, is generated by esteem 
for only certain particular, mainly moral, qualities. Yet, 
as Love strives after an abiding union with its object, so 
there is also in Friendship, the desire for community of 
feeling and action ; if this fmls, Esteem remains, which is 
denominated Benevolence, when it is accompanied with 
the impulse to manifest itself in procuring some earthly 
advantage for the object of its regard. Emulation is 
inseparable from Love and Friendship, and in general, 
arises in a mind that is pervaded by the Idea of Virtue, 
on seeing its Ideal of excellence more perfectly realized 
in another being than itself. Admiration is the loving 
recognition of another's excellence, when it is unattain- 
able 'by us, or, at least, when it seems so far removed 
from our own Ideal, that we cannot strive after it with- 
out renouncing our own Ideal, and ourselves, as it were. 
Thus the hero admires the poet, and the poet the hero, 
while each follows after a restricted Ideal, and one that 
is and must be foreign to the other. But no one ad- 
mires either the invisible Godhead, or the Godhead 
as revealed in Christ, for the very reason that its perfec- 
tion is without limits or restrictions, and consequently, 
may be taken as an Ideal by every man. The Idea of 
Yirtue produces the Affection of Contempt and Disesteem 
towards those who seem to be destitute of the Idea of 
Virtue ; though Disesteem more properly has reference 
to the absence of Civic Merit, or desert in relation to the 
State. Contempt is a very harsh, and, therefore, an im- 
perfect Affection ; he alone feels it who stands upon a 
low point of view, and who believes himself to be the 
creator of the virtue he possesses. He who is convinced 
that he has received it from God, without any merit 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 145 

of his own, will be more inclined to Pity than Contempt 
in relation to the sinner. 

Finally, in the third place, the following Affections 
are associated with the Idea of Happiness: — Longing' 
after the highest Good, Hope to obtain it, Gratitude to- 
wards him who has rendered aid in obtaining it. Pity 
for the erring who does not strive after it at all, or in a 
false way, Feai' of all that might deprive us of it, and 
Abhorreyice of evil within ourselves, as the worst enemy 
of our true happiness. Yet, in order to preserve these 
affections pure, the Idea of Happiness must be conceived 
in its greatest purity ; and it is for the very reason that 
this is seldom done, that the Affections at this point bor- 
der so closely upon the Passions. He who stands upon 
the position of the mere moralist, and seeks his happi- 
ness in an unhindered activity, will detect in himself a 
displeasure, not altogether pure and unselfish, towards 
all who oppose him in any way. But these Affections 
most easily degenerate into Passions, when the Idea of 
Happiness is applied to political relations, and the indi- 
vidual animated by it is striving after the welfare of the 
State. So long as Enthusiasm only, is felt in relation to 
those who promote the welfare of the State, and Dis- 
pleasure only, in relation to those who disturb it, these 
are beautiful Affections, and worthy of esteem ; but, in- 
stead of Enthusiasm, there very easily arises blind Ado- 
ration^ and instead of Displeasure, raging Hatred ; and 
these political Passions, which presuppose a great ob- 
scuration of the rational Idea of Happiness, are the 
more frightful, because it is easy for every man to justify 
to himself, and to others, his own selfish efforts, under 
the appearance of a patriotic disposition, hi like man- 
ner, Enmity against him who has done us some injury, 

13 



146 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

is never an Affection, but always a Passion. The same 
is true of Envy, in which the Begrudging another of his 
Happiness is connected with Hatred towards him for 
having it. Even Pity has something of Passion in it, if 
we deplore the case of an unhappy person, not for his 
own sake, but from a lurking, unconscious intimation, 
that possibly we may soon find ourselves in his condi- 
tion. It is a true Affection only when, as has been said 
before, it springs from the pure Idea of Happiness dwel- 
ling in us, and in some degree realized in our own case, 
but which we miss in the striving of another ; or when 
our feeling for the miserable is elevated and ennobled by 
the additional influence of the Ideas of Justice and of 
Virtue, as is the case on seeing an innocent man stricken 
with disease, or a man who, considering his high quali- 
ties, merited a better fate. As the sight of an innocent 
man, stricken with disease, calls forth an elevated Pity 
that is full of Aifection, so the sight of prosperous Vice 
begets Moral Indignation* which, like Co7npassion, is a 
mixed Affection, and springs from the connection of the 
Idea of Justice with the Idea of Happiness. 

Aristotle, who, in the beginning of his Rhetoric, con- 
demns the excitement of the Passions, but who after- 
wards, unable to carry out his theory independently, 
adapts himself to the necessities of the case, treats of 
the subject-matter of this chapter with evident interest, 
and with the precision in the specification of particulars 
peculiar to him. He assumes eleven Passions : — An- 
ger, Placability, Love, Hatred, Fear, Shame, Benevolence, 
Moral Indignation, Pity, Envy, Emulation. It is easy to 
see how, in this enumeration, things the most diverse are 
brought together, — e. g., the mean vice of Envy, with 

*■ Nemesis. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 147 

the noble striving of Emulation, and, consequently, how- 
necessary it is to distinguish between Affection and Pas- 
sion. Let it also be noticed that this list of Aristotle is 
not more copious than our own, and, consequently, that 
we have not been compelled, in order to systematically 
arrange the actual phenomena of consciousness, to muti- 
late them in the least. 



APPENDIX. 

AVIT. 



If we, of right, require in the orator the ability to 
awaken Affection, we should also, perhaps, require that 
he have Wit. Wit is the destruction of Affection ; it is 
the bent of a mind, which, instead of being carried away 
by the Holy and the Great, makes it an object of its 
scrutiny, and entertains itself with the apparent contra- 
dictions and contrasts which are contained in it. The 
play of such a mind is much more sure and safe when 
it is directed against a Passion, which continually pre- 
sents a great number of weak points, and which is al- 
ways checked and abated whenever Wit gets the upper 
hand. It might, therefore, seem as if the weapon of 
Wit were necessary to the orator, not indeed for attack, 
but for defence against a Passion or an Affection awak- 
ened by his opponent, that is working against him. This 
is the only one, among the many shallow reasons men- 
tioned by Cicero, for the employment of Wit in Elo- 



148 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

quence, that is not utterly to be rejected.* And, indeed, 
it cannot be denied that a well-applied sally of wit is of 
great effect when the orator needs merely to free himself 
from some entanglement, to help himself quickly out of 
a momentary embarrassment, and by a brief word to get 
rid of a matter, especially if it does not pertain to the 
higher relations of human existence, and is of no special 
importance to any one. Yet, when the orator has in 
view the excitement of a great and powerfully moving 
Affection, Wit, however skilfully applied, can produce 
only an injurious effect. It may indeed deprive the rea- 
soning of an opponent of its force, and extinguish the 
fire which he has kindled ; but the hearer is thereby put 
into an indifferent mental state that is destitute of 
Affection, and one in which he is more inclined to reflec- 
tion than to action. But the orator should never let it 
come to this ; for while in this way he destroys the Affec- 
tion or Passion which his opponent has called forth, he 
at the same time destroys that which has been produced 
by himself, and must, after an interruption so disturbing 
in its effects, begin his whole work over again. The inter- 
mingling of Wit in an oration, is therefore unworthy of 
a true orator ; and it seems to me the orator is upon true 
and high ground only when, without utterly annihilating 
the particular Affection which has been called forth in 
opposition, he throws it back with redoubled force upon 
his opponent. In this way, without any cold and indif- 
ferent state intervening, Affection follows upon Affec- 
tion, and that awakened last is strengthened by the con- 
trast with the preceding. It will not be more difficult, it 

* Quod frangit adversarium, quod impedit, quod elevat, quod deterret, 
quod refutat. — De Omtore, II. 58. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 149 

will rather be more easy, for him who speaks with the 
consciousness of the goodness of his cause, and can ap- 
ply the whole power of the moral Ideas to his own pur- 
poses, to suddenly reverse a false feeling in the mind of 
the hearer, which is unfavorable to himself, than first to 
kill all feeling in him, and then reanimate him for his 
own purposes. 

In order to clearly perceive how foreign Wit is from 
Eloquence, let one consider the nature of sacred Elo- 
quence, and ask himself. What would be the effect of a 
witty sally, against an opposer of religion, for example, 
in the midst of a serious discourse ? Would it not, of 
necessity, so destroy the whole impression of the dis- 
course as that it would be impossible to think, even, of 
renewing it again ? Of similar effect, also, is Wit in 
political Eloquence, although less hazardous, because the 
contrast with the main character of the discourse is not 
so sharp and striking. Upholding, to speak generally, 
is the proper function of the orator ; he can therefore 
have to do with destroying, only in passing and briefly. 

The tendency to Wit and the capability of employing 
it, were very slight, in the serious mind of Demosthenes, 
in which great affections were constantly dominant, 
while they were prominent qualities in Cicero. The 
latter took great pleasure in practising this talent, which 
flattered his vanity, while in the orations of Demosthenes 
no traces of it are to be met with, although he was often 
the subject of the witty sallies of his contemporaries. 
Quintiliauj who in general is more prejudiced in favor of 
his countryman than he should be, in reference to this 
quality places him above Demosthenes ; a totally false 
judgment, since he praises him on account of a quality 
which rather merits condemnation. Cicero is very en- 

13* 



150 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

tertaining, perhaps, to the modern reader, in those pas- 
sages in which he covers his opponent with wit and 
ridicule, but let one only observe how Demosthenes re- 
futes his adversary with earnest vehemence, with what 
masterly ability he converts defence into an attack, and 
hm^ls back as an accusation the annihilated charge of his 
opponent, and then ask himself which method is most 
conformed to the end of the orator, most elevated and 
noble, most virtuous ? * 

* Wit, in a deep and vehement nature, assumes the form of sarcasm, and 
moral scorn. When there is a perfectly clear perception of the thorough 
falsity of an opinion perversely defended by an opponent, it is accompanied 
in the earnest and truth-loving mind with an ethical indignation, which is 
too intense and strong for any merely light play like that of ridicule, and 
gives itself vent in that bolt-like denunciation of sarcasm which at once 
smites and withers. Wit is never found in the Scriptures ; but irony and 
sarcasm sometimes appear in their most incisive and awful force, as in the 
advice of Elijah to the priests of Baal (1 Kings xviii. 27 sq ), and in the 
description of idol-manufacturing by Isaiah (Isaiah xl. 19, 20; xli. 6, 7). 
— Tr. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 151 



CHAPTEU IV. 

OR THE RHETORI- 
CAL PRESENTATION OF THOUGHT. 

The way for the investigation of the important in- 
quiry, by what means Affection can be excited, seems to 
have been sufficiently prepared, by what has been said 
in proof of the moral dignity and worth of this mental 
state, and of the duty of the orator to call it into exist- 
ence. We do not treat of the excitement of the Pas- 
sions, because it is a subject which can find a place only 
in a Rhetoric constructed according to entirely false, or, 
at least, imperfect principles. Aristotle, upon this sub- 
ject, imparts an amount of instruction which, in com- 
pleteness and fulness of rich and fine remark, can hardly 
be surpassed. Yet it all amounts simply to this, that 
each Passion has its particular object by which it can be 
excited, if it be depicted in lively colors, and placed 
vividly before the view. A little imagination and so- 
called knowledge of human nature, accompanied with a 
versatile character, or an evil will, is often sufficient in 
order to succeed in this. It is not even necessary that 
the orator himself feel the Passion which he would en- 
kindle ; nay, this might rather be a hindrance to him, 
since it would destroy his coolness and self-possession. 
We acknowledge, moreover, that in many circumstances, 
and having to do with certain characters, it may be much 
easier to allow a Passion to blaze forth, than to produce 
^n Affection ; nay, that the former, in comparison with 



152 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE; OR, 

i ; 

: : the latter, is mere child's play. But besides that such a 

■ procedure is not moral in its nature, it is also a highly 

uncertain and deceptive means in order to attain a rhe- 
torical end, as we have already shown ; so that good 
sense, which goes hand-in-hand with duty, limits the ac- 
tivity of the orator to the educing of Ideas, and their 
enlivenment into Affections. 

While now a Passion may be made to blaze forth, by 
' one who is destitute of Passion himself, he alone, on the 

I other hand, is able to awaken an Affection, who is him- 

\ self enlivened and pervaded by it. For the aim, in this 

case, is not to render the mind of the hearer susceptible 
to the stimulus of an external object, — in order to which, 
it is not indispensably necessary that the orator himself 
be strongly affected by it, — but to transfer something 
that has been generated in the depths of the soul, into 
another person, which can be done only in proportion as 
the orator himself possesses that which is to be produced. 
Furthermore, it has been shown, that in the mind of the 
orator, the Affection is most intimately connected with 
the Idea, and that it arises only as an "effect of the Idea, 
and in proportion to the degree in which the Idea is un- 
folded and developed. In like manner, it can never be 
produced in the mind of the hearer by means which lie 
without the Idea, but only by means of the Idea itself, 
and its presentation. Only when the orator succeeds in 
imparting the Idea, which is living and creative in his 
own mind, to the hearer, in an equal degree of force and 
clearness, will the Idea break forth into activity in both 
speaker and hearer with equal power, i. e., be accompanied 
with the same Affection in each. If, therefore, we can 
discover a particular and peculiar manner of presenta- 
tion, by which an ethical Idea may be gradually carried 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 153 

up to its highest completeness in the mind of another, 
w^ shall have discovered the true means of awakening 
Affection. I say a particular and peculiar manner of 
presentation, for at this point especially, it mast be evi- 
dent that it can be neither a Philosophical nor a Poetical 
manner. For although Philosophy exhibits Ideas in 
themselves, and Poetry, an Idea in a sensuous dress, yet 
neither strives to excite an AtTection from which a sud- 
den revolution, either in the inward state of a man, or in 
the outward condition of human society, may proceed ; 
and even if anything similar to this results from the 
Philosophical or Poetical manner of presenting Ideas, 
yet the design to attain it, forms no part of this manner 
of presentation, and exerts no influence upon it, when 
it is pure and perfect in its character and execution. 
But the Rhetorical manner of presenting Ideas has the 
excitement of Affection for its peculair aim and end ; and 
I affirm that this is the only point of view" from which 
we can proceed, if w^e would co.nsecutively and systemat- 
ically derive its rales and laws. After having treated, 
in the First Book, of the Plan and Division, we shall 
therefore now endeavor to penetrate more deeply into 
the secret of Rhetorical Composition. 

The succes^s of our attempt to refer the theory of Elo- 
quence to ethical principles, \vould be very doubtful, if 
we should now find ourselves compelled to leave the 
path which we have hitherto trodden, and to deduce the 
laws of the Rhetorical presentation of thought, which 
have for their aim the awakening of Aflection, from 
some other domain than that of Ethics ; perhaps from a 
newly-invented theory of the Beautiful and Sublime, 
which we had connected as a little addendum with the 
main system, or perhaps from the theory of the Emo- 



154 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

tions, and some shrewd empirical rules for exerting an 
influence upon the human mind. But we find ourselves 
in no such desperate position, but take up our investi- 
gation again, precisely at the same point where we 
dropped it in order to explain some subjects which pre- 
sented themselves, by the aid of the principles which had 
been established, and proceed in the deduction of the 
laws, according to which a free being may exert influence 
upon other free beings. The first was : the orator must 
subordinate his particular Idea to the universal and neces- 
sary Ideas of his hearers; and upon this was based all that 
we have thus far developed. It is now incumbent upon 
us to lay down the remaining laws which are to be ob- 
served in this case, and to show how they, and they only, 
are the best and sole means of attaining the end which 
the orator must of necessity prescribe to himself, viz., 
the production of xlfFection. 

He, therefore, who, as a free being, would work upon 
other free beings, and has already brought his particular 
Idea into harmony with their innate and necessary Ideas, 
must, in the first place, closely adapt his method of treat- 
ing the subject to existing circumstances and relations. 
He must, in the second place, with all this reference to 
the position in which he finds himself, with all the resist- 
ance or avoidance of the obstacles which he meets in his 
path, at the same time be shut up and continue in one 
constant, unceasing, progressive process. But since, in 
the third place, through this advancing movement, the 
entire relation of the orator is every moment changing, 
assuming another form and shape, every element of his 
activity must likewise be distinguished by a particular 
form and shape ; and as his method, as a whole, was 
adapted to the relations which he found already existing, 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 155 

SO each of the steps in it must be in harmony with these 
changes brought about by himself. 

These three laws, — the first of which we denominate 
the law of Adaptation^ the second the law of Constant 
Progress^ the third the law of Vivacitij^ — we shall now 
examine, and endeavor to apply to Eloquence, as the 
means of exciting Affection. 



156 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 



CHAPTER V. 

THE LAW OF ADAPTATION. 

It is not merely a maxim of good sense, it is an ethical 
law, that our influence upon others should be adapted to 
J the circumstances under which it is attempted to be 

} exercised. These circumstances are no other than our 

relations to our fellow-men, which again are determined 
by their particular individuality, and by all that is con- 
nected with thio. But every man demands that his indi- 
viduality be respected, and although he acknowledges 
that it can and must undergo modifications, he never- 
theless demands that these consist not in the suppres- 
sion, but in the cultivation and elevation of what is 
already existing within him. Since this is a demand 
which every man makes, and since it is a moral law, that 
we so harmonize our claims with those of others, that 
thej^ can coexist with each other, this same law imposes 
upon us the obligation to respect their individuality,!, e., 
in our method of procedure to adapt ourselves to exist- 
ing relations and circumstances. For in endeavoring to 
realize an Idea, we assert and maintain our own individ- 
uality ; but in order that this may not be done at the 
expense, or by the suppression, of the individuality of 
others, the preponderance which we are endeavoring to 
acquire must be made easy and compensated for, by the 
closest possible insinuation of our own individuality into 
that of our hearers. Hence arose the first duty to fuse 
«5ur Ideas with theirs ; hence arises, now, the second duty 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 157 

of recognizing their individuality while asserting our 
own, and of employing the greatest carefulness while 
penetrating into anything that can possibly be regarded 
as belonging to it. But since, according to what we 
have before affirmed, the highest virtue is also the high- 
est good sense, the employment of this moral adaptation, 
while we are endeavoring to exert an influence upon 
others, will be the surest means, and the necessary con- 
dition, of securing a successful result. It is this by 
which the practical man, in the higher and better sense 
of the word, is distinguished ; and if his method is uni- 
formly characterized by this quality, and for this rea^son 
is never fruitless, we should, while ascribing good sense 
to him, at the same time not overlook the moral ground 
and source of this quality. There are men who at first 
sight inspire confidence, because they assert a distinctive 
and superior individuality with dignity, and set it forth 
with modesty, while at the same time they concede its 
full rights to the individuality of every crher man. Hardly 
have they commenced the management of a ditlicult case, 
when all obstacles and opposition vanish, because every 
hearer, on seeing them proceed, is soon convinced that 
their influence upon him can result only in his own 
benefit. These are the men who control and give direc- 
tion to social life, and to such examples must we look if 
we would obtain a true and lively notion of the dis- 
tinctive peculiarity of the orator. On the contrary, there 
are persons who are ever ready and desirous to exert 
a good influence upon others, but who, because they 
always bring forward their propositions at the wrong 
time, and are not able to adapt them to the individual 
peculiarities of those with whom they have to do, inva- 
riably fail in their plans and enterprises ; good men, per- 

14 



158 



ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE 1 OR, 



haps, and yet, without doubt, men who need a higher 
moral cultivation. They are the genuinely unrhetorical 
natures, exactly adapted to place clearly and plainly be- 
fore the eye, what the orator should not be. 

Now the law of Adaptation is as valid in relation to a 
rhetorical, as it is in relation to a moral procedure, and 
imparts to it, if it is formed after it, certain qualities 
which are of an ethical origin, and which, at the same 
time, may be regarded as the best means of exciting 

;' Affection. 

; In the first place, an oration adapted to existing rela- 

tions, will be so suited to the hearer's power of compre- 
hension, as that it will neither strain it to over-exertion, 
nor leave it unemployed. For the power of comprehen- 
sion depends upon the learning and intellectual culti- 
vation of the hearer, along with which it forms a part, 
and indeed a very essential part, of his individuality, 
which is to be respected by the orator, and which ho 
would offend against in an inexcusable manner, if he 
should fatigue it by too great obscurity, or too great 
plainness, in his discourse. And since, in order to avoid 
both these faults, a very accurate acquaintance with the 
Public whom he addresses is necessary, and one which 
he cannot obtain without a diligent study of it, he is 
obligated to engage in this study ; otherwise, he would 
incur the very same blame which he does, who under- 
takes a particular business, and neglects to acquire the 
knowledge necessary to its prosecution. It is indeed 
true, that, even among the same class of hearers, the 
degree of cultivation in each one is diflferent ; yet, it is 
easy to strike a mean, and from this to form the image, 
if I may so say, of a universal or model hearer ; and this 
image, if the orator keep it constantly before him, and 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 159 

address all he has to say to it, will keep him from the 
two extremes above mentioned. 

If an orator is not able to form a correct judgment 
respecting the Public which he is to address, or to occupy 
their attention in a manner adapted to their power 
of attention, this cannot be regarded as a natural and 
unavoidable defect, and so be merely matter of regret, 
but must be considered as a moral defect ; for his inade- 
quafeness ought not to have escaped his notice, and he 
should have given up a profession to which he had not 
become equal, especially since, in the majority of cases, 
he might have made up for what was wanting in natural 
talent, by persevering diligence. Nay, even if the orator 
possesses the greatest natural talents, it will be impos- 
sible for him to form a correct judgment respecting the 
intellectual state of cultivated hearers, and to adapt his 
conceptions to theirs, unless he possesses scientific and 
learned culture ; this, therefore, he should acquire ; ig- 
norance in him is to be regarded as weakness of moral 
character, and as such, is to incur moral condemnation. 
Here, again, we see how, in the case of the orator, the 
activity of all his powers is, or should be, under the 
guidance of a moral principle. 

In the acquisition of learned and scientific culture, he 
is to set no limits to himself; let him go as far as he may 
and can ; let him keep even step with his age, or let him 
press on before it ; only let him never forget that learn- 
ing and science, for him as an orator, are only means, 
and not ends, and that he may not put the exhibition of 
what he has made his own in these departments, in the 
place of the moral Ideas which he is to set before the 
popular mind. This would be a vanity intrinsically 
contrary to morality ; it w^ould cause him to lose sight 



160 

entirely of the hearer's power of comprehension, and 
oftentimes to present things that would weary the atten- 
tion of his audience to no purpose, or only awaken ob- 
scure images, instead of distinct conceptions ; and this 
is the second, and, as it appears from investigation, very 
culpable error, which the law of Adaptation forbids, in 
respect to the hearer's power of comprehension. 

In this adaptation of the oration to the hearer's power 
of comprehension, which, as we have seen, is of an 
ethical origin, we find the first means of exciting Affec- 
tion. In order that the hearer may be induced to take 
part in a series of conceptions, it is absolutely necessary 
that the activity which is required of him be not fatiguing 
in its nature ; in case it were fatiguing, it would soon 
become irksome to him, and he would surrender himself 
to an inactivity that would render all further efforts of 
the orator fruitless. And even if the hearer should be 
willing to exert himself, to attentively follow a discourse 
which taxed his powers to the utmost by its obscurity, yet 
the too great stretch of the power of comprehension 
would exert a deadening influence upon feeling and 
imagination, and would render it impossible to excit'^ 
them. But the power of attention is weakened by the 
too great plainness, as w^ell as the too great obscurity, of 
that which is presented to it, and the gentler stirrings of 
Affection will ever disdain to wake at the bidding of an 
orator who cannot even satisfy the understanding. 

Here, I fear, I shall be met with the objection, that he 
who has good sense enough to see the correctness of the 
remarks just made, will need nothing more than this 
good sense itself, in order to direct himself accordingly, 
and to impart to his oration the right relation to the 
hearer's powers of comprehension, so that the moral qual- 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 161 

ities and character of the orator need not come into 
account at all. This may have actually been the case 
in Athens, and in Rome, with many a demagogue ; yet, 
such an example would prove nothing here; for he who 
in Athens, or Rome, should have set forth something 
utterly unintelligible, would have been immediately 
driven off from the bema by the scorn and laughter of 
his impatiejit hearers. Under these circumstances, there- 
fore, where the necessity of following the rules above 
mentioned was so clear and pressing, the moral character 
and qualities requisite in other circumstances, might, 
perhaps, have been dispensed with in the orator; but 
from the fact, that a bad man may be compelled, by cir- 
cumstances of a highly pressing nature, to a certain 
method of procedure, it cannot be inferred that this 
method of procedure is not of an ethical nature, and 
that, other things being equal, the bad man can succeed 
in it as well as the good. For only contem.plate, for a 
moment, the sacred orator of our own times, whose re- 
lation to his hearers is far more unhampered than that 
of the ancient orator, since they cannot react upon him 
in a manner so totally destructive of success, as in the 
case above mentioned, and how difficult, nay, how impos- 
sible, it often seems, even for men of the shrewdest good 
sense, men whom no one can deny to be capable of 
forming a correct estimate of the capacity of their 
audience, to keep themselves in their discourse upon 
the right level, and neither too high nor too low. Car- 
ried away by complacency in something which they 
have learned or originated, they at one time require im- 
possibilities of the hearer's power of comprehension; at 
another, from mere habit, sticking to common-places, 
they set forth that which is perfectly well known to their 

14* 



162 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

I audience, lu a prolix and wearisome manner. Does not 

the former testify of too great vanity and self-compla- 
cency, which are certainly faults of a moral natm-e ; and 
does not the latter, as does all supine yielding to mere 
habit, presuppose a lack of strength and elasticity in the 
character ? 

Thus it is apparent that even this excellence in an 
oration — viz., that it is adapted to the hearer's power 
of comprehension — although it is only a^very subor- 
j dinate excellence, cannot be reached without qualities in 

^ the orator that are morally good. If I have succeeded 

in demonstrating the truth of this assertion, I believe 
I have thereby done those young men no little service, 
who are devoting themselves to Eloquence. Science 
and learning prepare them beforehand for an office in 
which science and learning can no longer be the prin- 
cipal object of their endeavors, but must be subordinated 
to the higher aim, to the attainment of which they are 
subservient. That this higher aim is actually a higher, 
it will be very difficult for them to understand, especially 
since the instruction at the common and higher schools, 
as these have hitherto been constituted, exhibits learning 
and science to them as the highest of all things, to which 
nothing, religion and morality not excepted, should be 
preferred. In vain, therefore, are they now urged to 
banish everything purely scientific, both in Matter and 
Form, from their discourvses ; they despise this rule, 
which appears to them only as timid concession, and 
which, it cannot be denied, is commonly represented to 
them as such, by their teachers ; in default of the Pro- 
fessor's chair, they would employ the Pulpit instead of 
it, and would make the bold attempt to raise the people 
to the heights where they themselves are soaring. If 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 163 

they finally come back from their error, yet the loss of 
heart and iiispiratioo often causes them to sink down 
into superficiality and common-place. If, on the con- 
trary, this accommodation of discourse to the hearer's 
power of comprehension is not a mere shrewd and skil- 
ful concession, but a perfectly moral procedure, if the 
opposite to it is contrary to duty, and if it is exhibited 
from this point of view, a young and noble mind will 
readily follo^^ a rule, the observance of which it believes 
does not degrade, but, on the contrary, elevates and 
ennobles. 

Yet the law of Adaptation requires not only that the 
oration be adapted to the capacity of the hearer, but 
also that the orator have reference to his whole individ- 
uality, to his position, his relations, to the occurrences 
which enter deeply into, and determine, his fortune and 
fate. And this kind of adaptation is far more difficult to 
attain than the first. In order to this, it is necessary 
that the orator know, and have before his eye, the innu- 
merable elements which enter into the civil, moral, 
and religious condition of man ; namely, the circle of 
his ideas and experiences, the thoughts that are com- 
mon or foreign to him, the images with which his imagi- 
nation is commonly employed, the more or less perfect 
Ideal of happiness, of civil, moral, religious perfection, 
which floats before him, his virtues and vices, his wishes 
and desires, together with all the more intimate modifica- 
tions imparted to his individuality by standing in society, 
by wealth, by political events, by the condition of the 
Church and State to which he belongs. 

This Adaptation of the oration to the hearer's power 
of comprehension, the best teachers of Rhetoric seem to 
have recognized as a means of exciting the Affections 



164 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

(io their sense indeed, according to which they were 
merely Passions) ; at least, I know no other reason why 
Aristotle in his Rhetoric, immediately after presenting 
the theory of the Passions, follows with a description of 
the manners of men, according to their age, rank, and 
wealth,* although he does not explain what use the 
orator is to make of this latter knowledge. 

Cicero, also, would have the orator be a shrewd and 
subtle man, who has thoroughly scrutinized the character 
and mode of thought of his hearers, according to their 
age and standing in society,! ^^^^ he only errs in ex- 
pecting of shrewdness and subtlety what may be best 
accomplished by morality. A crafty man may indeed 
succeed in detecting this or that weak side of a character, 
in order to attach to it the threads by which he would 
lead it ; but in order to so enter into, and feel, the views, 
the sentiments, and the position of a man, as to be able 
to address his whole individaality in a manner to benefit 
and elevate, something more than craftiness is needed ; 
shrewd good sense is indeed needed, but such as is under 
the guidance of moral feeling, and that disinterested 
benevolence which readily surrenders itself up to sym- 
pathy with men, and to the contemplation of the objects 
in which they are interested. 

Furthermore, the knowledge of the hearer's capacity 
thus obtained, should not be used to favor his errors and 
to flatter his passions, but it should be employed to 



* Rhet. Lib. IT. c. xii. — xvii. 

t Acuto homine nobis opus est, et natura usuquc callido, qui sagaciter 
pervestiget, quid sui cives, iique homines quibus aliquid dicendo persuadere 
velit, cogitent, sentiant, opinentur, expectent. Teneat oportet venus cu- 
jusque generis, £etatis, ordiiiis, et eorum apud quos aliquid aget aut erit ac- 
turus, mentes sensusque degustet. — De Orat. I, 51 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 165 

excite the Affections in a negative way at first, — L e., to 
avoid all that might displease, and so injure the hearer 
as such, or that might render things in themselves indif- 
ferent to him matters of offence. Without this care 
beforehand, the excitement of Affection is not to be 
thought of. In vain does the orator speak with fire and 
emphasis ; in vain is the hearer inclined to suffer himself 
to be warmed and animated by the Idea which the 
orator imparts to him, if the orator detains or wearies 
him, in the way to the goal in view, by a thousand minor 
matters irksome in their nature. And this is no undue 
or sickly sensibility on the part of the hearer, for the 
claim itself, which I as an orator make upon him, to en- 
tirely surrender himself in one respect to me, imposes 
the duty upon me to spare him as much as possible in 
all other respects. Hence, the orator also, if he is en- 
dowed with true moral wisdom, must know how to go 
around all the difficulties which he cannot at the mo- 
ment overcome ; this is at once duty and good sense. 
Thus, the Apostle Paul, in order the better to reach his 
great aim, spared the prejudices of his contemporaries, 
and became all things to all vien, if by any means he might 
save some. 

The orators of antiquity, Demosthenes perhaps alone 
excepted, because they did not apprehend the true ground 
of this Adaptation in the oration, sometimes practised a 
s])ecies of artifice and trickery as unworthy of a high- 
minded man, as it was useless towards the attainment 
of their aim. When Cicero pretended that he could not 
call to mind the name of Polyclerus, and it was men- 
tioned to him aloud by one of the bystanders,* he, witli- 

* Ven-ina, IV. 3. —Wolf ad Leptineam, p. 300. 



m 



166 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

out doubt, intended by this seeming ignorance of the 
history of Grecian Art, to fall in with the notion of his 
fellow-citizens, that to employ one's self with such ob- 
jects as those of Art was unworthy of a statesman. 
For my part, I can see in this only an excess of Rhetor- 
ical Adaptation, and, consequently, something contrary 
to morality. Moreover, I do not understand of what 
use this little piece of trickery could be to a man who 
knew how to set such mighty springs in motion. But it 
is the fate of all one-sided endeavors, to soon degenerate 
into the production of mere form without substance. 
This was very soon the case with ancient Eloquence, 
because the Ancients misapprehended the moral nature 
of Eloquence, and regarded it only as an instrument for 
the attainment of ambitious designs.* 

* An artifice similar to tliis of Cicero's, only still more shrewd and cun- 
nini^, is attributed to Demosthenes, in order to explain the following passage 
in the oration for Ctesiphon : "For I (thus he addresses ^schires), and 
all ihese with me, call joa a hireling, first of Philip and now of Alexander ! 
If you doubt, ask these present ; but I will rather do it for yon. Does it 
seem to you, Athenians, that JEschines is a hireling or a guest of Alexander ? 
Do you hear what they say?" — Von Raumer's Translation, p. 122. — Here, 
say the Scholiasts, Demosthenes purposely pronounced the word fiiaSircoT6s, 
with an incorrect accent, and represented the exclamation of the hearers, 
who repeated the word in order to correct the pronunciation, as an answer 
to his question, and as a declaration on their part that they regarded JEs- 
cl lines as an hireling. This explanation is given upon the authority of the 
Scholiasts, and, so far as I know, is accf;pted by many, because the reader 
is particularly delighted with discovering such artifices in orators ; but that 
it is the correct one, I doubt. Certainly such a misplacing of the accent 
would have oflTended the ears of the Athenians extremely, and might have 
occasioned an exclamatory coiTCction on their part ; but could this same ex- 
citable public have thus coolly entered into the deception, and pretended to 
pronounce a judgment respecting iEschines, when they only correct! d De- 
mosthenes ■? It seems to me, that Demosthenes, by this artifice, in reality so 
iinperiinent to the occasion, would not have won over the minds of his hear- 
ers, but would have only exasperated them. But besides this, while exam- 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTExMATIC RHETORIC, 167 

If such an extreme Adaptation on the part of the 
orator is to be condemned, the opposite fault, namely, 
striking violently against existing and unalterable rela- 
tions, is likewise to be regarded as contrary to morality, 
and contrary to good sense. A shock of this kind anni- 
hilates immediately the effect of the most powerful ora- 
tion, and we need only to examine the sort of displeasure 
which is excited by it, in order to see that the orator who 
has committed the fault in question, is chargeable, not 
with a defect in good sense, or in productive genius, but, 
what is far worse, in moral feeling. If an audience should 
be so obtuse as not to be offended by mistakes of this 
kind, — and this is oftener the case than one would think, 
— this indeed renders the labor of the orator easier on 
the one side, but it renders it more difficult on the other; 
for, as the audience does not perceive the want of Adap- 
tation, neither will it perceive the presence of Adaptation 
in an oration. The orator, therefore, should congratulate 
himself only in an audience that is cultivated enough to 
be displeased with the slightest unbefitting expression ; 
if he does not find his audience to be of such a character, 
he must seek to elevate it to this height, while he shows 
it a respect which it will certainly learn more and more 
to estimate and understand. 

ining the orations of Demosthenes, we should at least consider what is due 
to his character, the dignity of wliich, even though but half recognized, must 
protect him from the suspicion of having meddled with such miserable con- 
ceits ; we should consider that in this most tragic hour of his life, his strongly 
exercised soul could only hurl bolt-like ideas and not play with accents. 
Moreover, what is more natural than to suppose, as an explanation of this 
passage, that he could from tlie first reckon upon a sti-ong party among the 
audience, and might anticipate that tliey would answer the question accord- 
ing to his wishes ? This mucli moi'e befitting explanation is also found in 
the Scholiasts, who ascribe this answer to a friend of the orator, the comic 
poet Menander. 



168 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

But with respect to what he may venture upon, and 
what he may not venture upon, let the orator decide, not 
according to the conjectures of worldly shrewdness and 
sense, but according to moral principles ; the hardest 
and strongest statements, provided only they are adapted 
and suitable, provided only the orator is called upon by 
virtue of his office and his calling to make them, will 
never do injury ; they will never weaken, but will always 
strengthen the effect of his oration, and the Affection 
which he would produce. How cultivated was the feel- 
ing for the Becoming and the Adapted, in the Athenians 
in the time of Demosthenes, and yet this orator never 
feared to charge home upon them, with the greatest force 
and impressiveness, their degeneracy, their failures and 
weaknesses; and I am not aware that he ever injured 
the effect of his orations by the freedom which was so 
unmistakably connected with his love for his country 
and the existina: constitution. Still less should the 
sacred orator fear to depict moral and religious corrup- 
tion, according to its true reality, and to terrify the im- 
penitent sinner by the retributions of the future life. He 
who omits to do this from fear of estranging his audience 
from himself, does not consider that the hearer altogether 
involuntarily judges of the orator according to moral 
rules, and allows him to venture upon all that he may 
rightfully venture upon ; that the most vehement charges 
do not exasperate him, provided only he sees that the 
orator, by virtue of the relation in which he stands to 
himself, is justified therein ; nay, that there is a propen- 
sity in the moral and religious nature of man, which is 
closely akin to the propensity for the Terrible and Sub- 
lime, by virtue of which he is better pleased with a 
merited humiliation, that may lead to better senti- 



OUTLINES OP A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 169 

merits, than with that superficial emotioQ which is gen- 
erated by flattering and specious discourse. Thus the 
renowned orators who spoke before Louis XIV. and his 
court, — an auditory who surely would never have par- 
doned the slightest impropriety in them, — often em- 
ployed and applied all the terrors of religion, and all the 
censorial power of their office, and always with the 
greatest effect. 

While, on the one hand, Adaptation in the oration pre- 
vents every oflence that might suppress Affection in the 
hearer, on the other it contributes directly to the awaken- 
ing of Aflection. If, namely, the orator moves in a cir- 
cle of such thoughts, images, and allusions, as recall into 
memory the experiences of the hearer himself, and the 
scenes of which he was himself a witness, the oration 
must influence with double power. For in this way the 
Idea is not merely made clear and distinct to his mind, 
but since the orator associates it with all that the hearer 
has himself thought and felt, the whole inner being of 
the hearer is taken possession of, and that inward fer- 
mentation, which we denominate Affection, is awakened. 
There may be many forms of expression suitable to the 
thought, and intelligible to the hearer; but there is per- 
haps still another in particular, by which a region of his 
mind enveloped in darkness may be suddenly filled with 
light, and which at least strikes some of the manifold 
threads of which the web of his feelings consist; this 
latter form the orator should know how to find, and he 
will be enabled to find it by means of that study of his 
hearers which is grounded in an interest for their well- 
being. If he should prefer another mode of presenta- 
tion, to this form of clothing his thought, this would be 
an egotistic procedure that would punish itself bv the 

15 



170 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

inefficiency of the oration. But the occasional oration 
shows how strong the impression is, which can be pro- 
duced by the wise use of feelings already existing in its 
hearers. If the preacher speaks on the occasion of the 
opening of a campaign, or of a festival in commemo- 
ration of a victory or a peace, he may, in this instance, 
presuppose the existence in the hearers of certain pre- 
vailing views and opinions, certain hopes and fears, cer- 
tain feelings of joy and thankfulness, with greater cer- 
** tainty than in the case of ordinary discourses, when the 

j relations that exist are not so determinate and precise ; 

and if he understands, with only moderate wisdom, how 
to converge all these different rays into the focus of his 
leading Idea, he will be able to raise his Idea to a very 
high grade of Affection in the mind of the auditor. 
This is the reason why the effect of sermons on festival 
occasions is always greater than that of ordinary dis- 
courses on the Sabbath. In the former case, the hearer, 
however unfavorable his mental state may be for the 
purposes of the orator, nevertheless, always brings with 
him some sentiments of a religious character, upon 
which the orator can very easily fasten. 

It also belongs to this Adaptation in the oration, that 
the orator never rise into expressions, phrases, and images 
that are above the language of cultivated society, even 
before an auditory that would be able to follow a higher 
style of thought, and to understand nfore exquisite modes 
of speech. I mention this for the sake of those who 
think they impart a peculiar dignity and force to their 
discourse, by the use of poetic ornament, by employing 
words which they bring forth from the dust of past cen- 
turies, and by constructions which are foreign to pure 
prose. But this is always only a cold show without 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 171 

power, — if power, as I affirm, can mean nothing else 
than the efficiency of the oration in exciting Affection. 
In the throng of active life, amidst heart-rending mis- 
fortunes, during the silent hours of contemplation, does 
the hearer make known his thoughts and feelings to 
himself and to others, in a highly flowery style, and in 
strange, unusual phraseology ? Certainly not. The 
style of expression which spontaneously associates itself 
with the silent emotions of our heart, when they come 
forth into consciousness, is always as noble as it is sim- 
ple ; if, therefore, the orator would penetrate into our 
inner life, and renew again the traces of forgotten 
thoughts and feelings, if he would actually address us, 
he must employ the very same well-known and cus- 
tomary language in which we are wont to commune 
with ourselves. Every strange expression, nay, every 
unusual phrase, tears us away from ourselves, instead of 
leading us back into ourselves; and the stream of in- 
ward harmonies, which perhaps was on the point of 
flowing forth, suddenly breaks upon such unexpected 
obstacles, and is dissipated. Moreover, with the dis- 
turbance of this flow is connected displeasure towards a 
man who decks himself out in a showy costume of 
sounding phrases, which, after all, are not so very diffi- 
cult to collect together, instead of employing my com- 
mon, every-day language along with me, to his own true 
advantage, as well as mine. Those very rare instances 
when the speaker selects an unusual expression for an 
unusual thought, are of course excepted here; but to 
allow one's self in even the slightest departure from 
ordinary language, unless there is some particular reason 
to justify it, seems to me to be unadapted to the oration, 
and contrary to its aim, and is therefore, according to 



172 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

the theory of Eloquence here laid dowi;!, morally blame- 
worthy. 

It will of course be understood in this connection, that 
I do not intend to disapprove of the use of Bible lan- 
guage ; on the contrary, I would recommend to all 
sacred orators the frequent employment of the expres- 
sions and images of the sacred Scriptures, as a highly 
adapted and effectual means of exciting Affection, pro- 
vided only they be not brought in merely to fill up empty 
space, but are fused into the discourse, retaining their 
whole dignity and force. They are highly adapted ; for 
the language of the Bible can never become antiquated, 
because it affords so many highly significant expressions 
for the manifold conditions of human life and states of 
the human heart, many of which appear as proverbial 
phrases in the language of common intercourse ; and 
however much religious education, and the reading of 
the Bible, may have been neglected, the orator may yet, 
in the case of the generality of hearers, reckon with cer- 
tainty upon a thought being understood sooner in a 
Biblical than in a Philosophical dress. But the great 
power of Bible language, in awakening Affection, con- 
sists principally in this : that, in it, the expression for the 
understanding, and the expression for the feelings, are 
not different, as in merely human representations, but 
are always one and the same. The figures, so frequent 
in the Bible, while they have all the precision of an ab- 
stract terminology, at the same time transfer the idea 
into the web of human relationships, and clothe it with 
all that can exert influence upon the mind; they are a 
ray which unites in one, both light and heat, and passes 
over from the mind into the heart, thus kindling the 
whole man. If now, as is often the case, a sentence 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 173 

from the Bible, on our first meeting with it, or upon 
after-occasions, has awakened a \vhole series of pious 
emotions, the orator, by citing it as he passes on, can 
evoke anew the Affection which has ah'eady become con- 
nected with it, and can apply it to the purposes of his 
oration. On account of this great advantage, I would 
advise the employment of the language of the Bible, 
even though the orator cannot presuppose that the 
hearer is acquainted with it, or that it has ever con- 
tributed to awaken his inward life ; for by this frequent 
employment of it, this closer acquaintance, and this in- 
influence upon the mind, will be brought about by 
degrees. 

But that which prevents the orator from entering into 
the conceptions of his hearers, speaking to them in their 
own language, and exciting Affection by the Adaptation 
of his discourse to the individuality, is, in the last an- 
alysis of it, nothing but a moral defect. In the main, it 
is that self-complacent vanity which only desires the 
pleasure of expressing itself strikingly and agreeably, 
and which shrinks from the difficult and oftentimes 
violent effort which is requisite in order to go out from 
self, and into another individuality. From this weakness 
arise, in sacred Eloquence, the loosely constructed, flow- 
ery orations, which, indeed, since they are adapted to 
excite the fancy of the hearer, often meet with enthusi- 
astic applause (inasmuch as men generally, blinded by 
their own vanity, seldom set such an estimate upon the 
vanity of others, and chastise it, as it deserves), yet 
whose idle play of thoughts and images can never pro- 
duce a noble Affection urging on to great resolves. Sec- 
ondly, there is also a certain aversion to the process in 
question, which may be found even in noble and tender 

15* 



174 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

minds, and which prevents them from entering into the 
relations of their hearers, seizing their hearts with a 
strong grasp, and thus giving to their discourse that 
Adaptation which awakens Afibction. If an orator ab- 
sorbs himself entirely in the Idea, and develops it with 
great carefulness, but touches only superficially and 
generally upon the relations in which it is to be realized, 
in order not to strike against any obstacle, or to give 
offence to any one, we may presuppose with certainty 
the existence of the very aversion above mentioned. 
Thirdly, too great yielding on the part of the orator in 
sacrificing his Idea and his individuality, and in employ- 
ing himself solely with the relations and inclinations of 
his hearers, in order to say something agreeable and 
pleasing to them, deserves the very same, if not greater, 
moral condemnation, with the faults already mentioned, 
and exerts the same debilitating infiuence upon the dis- 
course. An orator who is thus moved, often lets his 
hearers melt away in powerless emotion ; but he will 
never kindle in them a true Afl'ection, since the clear ray 
of his Idea, by which alone this is to be accomplished, 
never breaks through the veil which surrounds it. Thus 
we have specified three errors : absorption in self, ab- 
sorption in the Idea of the oration, absorption in the 
relations of the hearers. If a Rhetorical presentation 
of thought has a decided preponderance to one of these 
three sides, it lacks Adaptation, and is so far powerless. 
In order, therefore, to speak with perfect Adaptation, the 
orator must so bring together, unite, and reconcile these 
three different claims, which his own individuality, the 
Idea of his oration, and the relations of his hearers, 
make upon him, as that each one of them be satisfied 
without any disparagement to the others : and in order 



OL'TLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 175 

to do this, nothing more is necessary, than is required in 
order to any truly moral action, — namely, a constantly 
clear consciousness of our own individuality, of the Idea 
according to which, and of the relations in which, we act. 
But in order to the solution of this problem, extremely 
great strength of character in rhetorical as well as in 
moral respects, is necessary ; and how very much both 
are one and the same in essence is seen in the fact, that 
orations, which are excellent both as rhetorical and moral 
processes, are not distinguished by any outward brilli- 
ancy and splendor; for when the three different elements 
above mentioned are fused together, their colors flow into 
each other, while, on the contrary, imperfect orations, for 
the very reason that some one of these elements appears 
separated from the others, provided they are elaborated 
with any tolerable degree of ability, readily acquire a 
brilliancy which astonishes the ignorant hearer, but 
which truly enlivens neither him nor any one else. 

In this respect Demosthenes deserves the very highest 
praise, since no orator has ever united with such a dig- 
nified presentation of his own individuality, and such a 
transparent development of his Idea, such an all-com- 
prehending reference to existing relations ; and from the 
constant fusion of these three constituents originates his 
forcible simplicity, which would have been totally de- 
stroyed, if, in his orations, the lyrical and the phil- 
osophical elements had ever been separated from the 
real and practical. On the other hand, Cicero, is far 
less deserving of being set up as a model of Adaptation 
in the oration ; not that he ever rises above his hearer's 
power of comprehension, or brings forward anything 
unbefitting and offensive, but at one time his own indi- 
viduality, at another, his Idea, at another, the existing 
circumstances, are too prominent ; and that one of these 



176 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

three elements which is predominant at any time, throws 
the other two into the shade. Bat on account of this 
very fault, his coloring is more brilliant than that of 
Demosthenes, and he can, in general, be understood with 
less laborious study into the relations of the age in 
which he appeared.* 

Without wishing in the least to compare Massillon 
with Demosthenes, or Bossuet with Cicero, they never- 
theless have this similarity: that Massillon, like the Gre- 
cian orator, without giving up himself and his Idea, 
realizes to himself, in the most accurate manner, the life 
of bis hearers ; on the contrary, Bossuet, and indeed, as 
I conjecture, on account of a less pure character, almost 
entirely neglects this latter reference. For this reason, 
Massillon inspires us, and we forget to admire him, — 
the highest praise that can be given to the orator ; on 
the contrary, Bossuet excites, even by his most sublime 
religious elevation, nothing but cold admiration, or, at 
most, an inflammation of the fancy that is morally useless. 
If, moreover, the French themselves almost always place 
Bossuet before Massillon, this only proves, like many 
other judgments of their critics, how little they know 
how to recognize and estimate that which is truly excel- 
lent in their own literature. 



APPENDIX. 

TASTE. 

What Taste properly is, is as much a matter of dis- 
pute, as is th'e place which it should hold in a theory of 
Art, and the influence which should be conceded to it in 
the production and criticism of works of Art. Indeed, 

* See Note L, page 207. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 177 

the attempt bas been made in modern times to bring it 
into utter condemnation, and to strip it of all influence, 
as a perverted principle which we have derived from the 
French; yet since the Public, however much it may 
have been enjoined upon it not to exercise Taste in its 
judgments, does not, nevertheless, cease to regard its re- 
quisitions as valid, and since, moreover, Taste sometimes 
unconsciously influences the judgments of those who 
de.-pise it, it would seem that it only needs to be seen in 
the right light, and to be placed in the right position, in 
order to be universally recognized. It can, indeed, find 
no place in such theories as recognize no other rules for 
Art but those which the imagination imposes upon itself; 
for Taste will never have any connection with the imagi- 
nation, so long as the imagination works separate from 
the other faculties of the soul. But in this very separa- 
tion lies the fault; for how is it possible that Art, which, 
from its nature, is to seize upon the whole man, should 
excite into action the imagination alone, and not the 
other powers also ? And even if this should be the case, 
still the ethical power, although it will not indeed pre- 
dominate in Art as it does in Rhetoric, will certainly not 
be without influence upon the impulse of the imagina- 
tion predominant in it. 

In the ability, then, of working according to ethical 
Ideas, I would seek the source of Taste, and affirm that 
Taste is nothing but the selection of the Becoming and 
Adapted [ro irpkiTov)^ guided by ethical Ideas. Its proper 
home, therefore, is within the sphere of Eloquence ; or 
rather, its sphere should be extended over the whole 
practical life of the orator, since regard for the individual 
peculiarities of his fellow-men, and for the relations in 
which he finds himself to them, should accompany him 



178 

at all times. But if Taste has become a moral habit ia 
him, T do not see how he can suddenly drop it, when he 
turns back from the circle of his outv/ard activity into 
himself, in order to unfold the Ideas of his imagination, 
and how he can here speak with himself in a language, 
and make use of a manner of representation, which he 
would never allow himself in, in his relations to his 
fellow-men. Taste, in the above-given sense, should 
therefore extend itself over all Poetry; the Ideas of the 
imagination must be made to pass through this medium; 
and if this is done, they will themselves gain in liveli- 
ness, and their embodiment in power and perfection. 
For in order to make his work a living whole, in order 
to give it individuality, the artist must impart to it 
characteristics of the most precise stamp ; and some 
of them will always be failures, unless, besides the 
other relations in which the work originated, the moral 
relations also are to be recognized in it by the regard 
paid to them. But Eloquence, in respect to Taste, must 
always differ from Poetry, in that, in the case of Elo- 
quence, the selection of the Becoming and Adapted is 
accompanied with the design of exciting Affection, while 
Taste in the poet, on the contrary, is a quality that 
works without any design in view, except the mere pro- 
duction of Beauty. Moreover, the term* Taste, so oiFen- 
sive to many, would not be so unsuitable to denote such 
a separating, selecting principle as has been spoken of; 
while, at the same time, it would occur to us, that as the 
sensuous Taste manifests itself differently in different 
persons, so also the moral Taste does not pass the same 
judgments in Eloquence and Poetry, in different ages 
and relations; for although the rule remains ever the 
same, it is modified by circumstances in the most mani- 
fold way. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 179 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE LAW OF CONSTANT PROGRESS. 

After having previously become acquainted with the 
main parts into which the oration divides, we have now 
also seen what should be the nature of the subordinate 
representations by which the Ideas are developed. But 
the question now arises, as well in respect to those main 
parts, as to these subordinate representations : By what 
law are their order and succession determined? We 
set forth here the law of constant Progress, and have, in 
the first place, to show that this is an ethical principle. 

Not only should the inward moral development of 
man, considered as a striving after perfection never to 
be absolutely reached, be a constant progress, but also 
when in active life he attempts the actualization of an 
ethical Idea, he should seek to approach continually, and 
without intermission, the prescribed goal. If the diffi- 
culties that stand in the way, determine him to entirely 
give up his plan, or if, occupying himself with secondary 
things, he suffers himself to be turned aside from the 
path upon which he has entered, so that he returns back 
into it late, and with spent energies, we justly charge 
him with being wanting in that heart, that constancy, 
that force of character which is an essential constituent 
of virtue. He cannot, it is true, approach his goal 
always in a straight line, so to speak, and with even pace; 
lie will sometimes advance slower, because he must re- 
move the obstructions which oppose him, out of his way, 



I 



180 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

or because he must slowly prepare the way for a work 
which cannot succeed at once. But even while making 
these elaborate preparations, the eye should never lose 
sight of the goal, and the striving to reach it must be 
plainly apparent even in the greatest digressions. But 
this progress itself receives its perfection from the steady 
constancy prevailing in it, — i. e., from the easy connec- 
tion and fusion of the parts of the process, so that each 
particular part, as it was occasioned and prepared for, 
by what preceded, so in its turn serves as the occasion 
and preparation for what follows. If this essential 
requisite be wanting, and the movement "of the discourse 
is only by leaps and impulses, individual brilliant frag- 
ments may, indeed, be the result, but no continuous 
ethical life. 

From Ethics, therefore, w^e derive the law of constant 
Progress (for it is contained necessarily and essentially 
in Ethics), and not from the mode of representation 
employed in Philosophy or Poetry, in which it is to be 
met with only under many limitations, nay, is often 
forced out by the opposite principle. For the activity 
of the poet, like that of the philosopher, returns back 
into itself, because of the eflbrt to impart roundness and 
finish to its creations, and is accompanied wnth a rest 
and satisfaction which is grounded in the consciousness 
of the possibility of perfectly representing its Idea. The 
ethical striving, on the contrary, in the consciousness 
that it can never reach its Ideal of perfection, nay, can 
never exhibit even a single Idea perfectly realized in 
actual existence, is never to give itself up to rest and 
self-satisfaction, but with abiding zeal, though with re- 
flection, is to hasten on immediately from each step in 
the process that has been taken to a new one. And if 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 181 

the law of constant Progress is found in certain species 
of Poetry, as for example, the Drama, it must not be 
supposed that Rhetoric borrowed it from them ; on the 
contrary, it imparted it to them, since the Drama is the 
representation of the ethical activity of men, and miisi 
therefore retain something of the ethical element in it. 

As, therefore, the individual actions in a complete 
moral process join on upon one another, so also in the 
oration should the ethical Ideas and the adapted repre- 
sentations which serve to develop them, be methodically 
arranged. So unceasing and vehement is the progress 
of the genuine orator, that he detects every thought, 
every word, that does not bring him nearer the goal, as 
a weakness, a fault, nay, as a sin, and casts it from him. 
If it is necessary to instruct the hearer in things of sec- 
ondary importance, that might have influence upon his 
decision, to moderate his excited feelings, to obviate an 
objection, he checks for a moment the rapidity of his 
course, yet only in order to be able to advance with so 
much the greater speed ; nay, it may sometimes seem 
as if he were deviating entirely from his path, yet, even 
in his deviation, the movement towards the goal is con- 
stantly apparent, and it is soon seen that he turned aside 
into the by-bath, only in order to reach the goal the 
sooner. And in this movement, sometimes vehement, 
sometimes gentle, thought without effort joins on upon 
thought, so that, from the first to the last, there is an 
unbroken chain, in which not the least break, either for 
the understanding or for the feelings, is discoverable. 

Furthermore, it is plain, that by the application of 
this ethical principle to the Rhetorical presentation of 
thought, its chief aim, the production of Affection, is 
reached. If men find in themselves no enthusiasm for 

16 



^ 



182 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

a really great and beautiful Idea, the reason must be, 
either that they do not contemplate it in all its relations 
to Happiness, Virtue, and Duty, or that they allow them- 
selves to be too greatly dampened by the individual 
difficulties in the way of its realizatioQ. But if all the 
individual elements and relations of the Idea are made 
to pass before their minds, one after another, in rapid 
progression, so that they can take in at a glance all that 
is great, sublime, and rich in blessing, flowing from it, it 
is impossible that they should not warm towards it; 
every new representation on the part of the orator, is a 
new spur which urges them on to the realization of the 
Idea. At the same time, the mind depressed and bowed 
down by the presentation of difficulties and hindrances, 
is, as it were, freed from a burden, by the removal of its 
doubts, so that it no longer anxiously holds itself^in 
reserve, but can freely and readily yield itself up to the 
influence which is exerted upon it. But in order that 
this warmth with which the mind begins to glow, may 
not grow cold, but may increase and constantly diffuse 
itself, it is necessary that this progress of the orator be 
also constant. If the thoughts are not closely linked 
together, so that the understanding perceives a defect 
in their connection ; if it is difficult for the mind to 
change from one feeling already awakened, to another, 
or to pass from a feeling to thoughts not specially con- 
nected with it, there arises reflection in the hearer's mind, 
not upon the Idea, but upon the orator; and the eflect 
of this reflection is so chilling, that all the warmth which 
had already been produced, perhaps, at once vanishes, 
and the orator must begin his work over again from the 
beginning. In the case of a constant Progress, on the 
contrary, the effect of what follows is strengthened and 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 183 

favored by what precedes, and the effect of what pre- 
cedes by the effect of what follows.* 

Thus have we shown, as we flatter ourselves, that 
through this law of constant Progress, which is ethical 
in its origin, the chief aim of the Rhetorical presentation 
of thought, the excitement of Affection, is also reached. 
But in order to obtain a more thorough insight into the 
scope and application of the law^, we subjoin in addition 
the following particulars. 

In the first place, so far as respects this necessary pro- 
gress in the oration, it is to be noticed that, though it 
admits of narration, it entirely excludes description. In 
nmration, the different constituent parts of a subject 
follow one upon another, and the progress of the oration 
is not checked by it; but in description, on the contrary, 
these constituent parts stand beside each other, and form 
a quiet picture, whereby the swift, strong movement of 
the oration is stopped. Hence the orator, if called upon, 
as is very often the case, to describe the character of a 
person, or a particular posture of things in actual life, 
should never in his narration exhibit the different quali- 
ties of a person, or the different characteristics of things, 
beside each other, but he should find a historical thread, 
by means of which his representation may run off like a 
gradually developing history. It is exceedingly difficult 
to do this, since, in order to it, the orator is often obliged 
to do violence to the representation as it exists in his own 
mind, and to take objects which he has apprehended and 
contemplated as a quiet whole, out of this form, and put 
them into another. Yet this is absolutely necessary; 

* Cicero seems to mean the same thing, when he says : Deinde inventa, 
non solum ordine, sed etiam momento quodam atque judicio dispensare 
atque componere. — De Orat., I. 31. 



184 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

unless it be done, the orator falls away from the Rhe- 
torical into the Poetical representation, and allows him- 
self and his hearers a rest that is destructive of ail 
Affection. The descriptions in the orations of the An- 
cients are wrought entirely according to this principle ; 
they are always narrative, never descriptive; in modern 
Rhetoric, the contrary is almost always the case, and 
hence the heavy dragging movement found in it. 

The law of Progress also determines the extent of the 
development of each individual thought that appears in 
the rhetorical series. For the orator must not allow one 
thought to so expand and become prominent at the 
expense of another, as to produce a pause in the move- 
ment of the oration. The recondite nature of many 
thoughts, which require unfolding, explanations, argu- 
ments, may often lead to this fault. Hence the genuine 
orator will rather make up his discourse out of thoughts 
that need only to be enounced, not explained and proved. 
Strictly speaking, it is a fault to express the same thought 
in ditferent language, the first time obscurely, the second 
time by explanation and circumlocution ; for the law of 
Progress, strictly observed, requires that the development 
of the thought progress with every new sentence ; the 
orator, therefore, must know how to find immediately, 
the plainest, most forcible expression, and to be satisfied 
with it once for all. 

With respect to the arguments often necessary in Elo- 
quence, it might seem as if they must stop the swift 
current of the oration, and impart to it that slow move- 
ment, returning into itself, which is peculiar to Philos- 
ophy. Yet this will not be the case, provided these 
arguments are brought forward according to the general 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 185 

principles laid down in the First Book.* Would the 
orator show the possibility of a thing, he does it by pro- 
posing a plan, by citing an example, showing that in 
sinnilar circumstances the like has already been done ; 
would he prove the actuality of a fact, he cites testimony, 
and establishes its validity. In this way everything is 
made out by the exhibition of the real, of the plainly 
apparent, and there is no need of a slow tedious chain 
of abstract propositions. This is not necessary even 
when the truth of a thing is to be demonstrated ; in this 
case, the orator refers to a universally recognized author- 
ity, the weight of which immediately decides the ques- 
tion ; or he makes use of public opinion, which has 
already, on another occasion, decided according to truth, 
and shows his hearer, by means of a brief and readily 
apprehended enthymeme, that he cannot possibly judge 
differently, or decide differently, in the present case, from 
what he did in the former, without falling into self- 
contradiction. In this way Demosthenes constructs his 
formidable enthymematic trains of reasoning, which, so 
far from hindering the progress of the orator, are rather 
to be compared to the lightning, in force and rapidity. f 

It often happens that a thought, in a position from 
which the logical arrangement would not displace it, 
exerts a retarding influence, and interrupts the con- 
tinuity of the Rhetorical series, because it seems neither 
to have been sufficiently prepared for by what precedes, 
nor to sufficiently prepare for what follows. To avoid 
this case, and so to present every single thought as that 
it shall not only not retard, but accelerate the sweep of 
the oration, is one of the most difficult problems in Elo- 

* Chapter XT. t Note II., p. 213. 

16* 



186 



OR, 



quence ; yet it may be solve'd, as it seems to us, by the 
aid of the principles which we have laid down. In 
order to this, we must recognize a gradation in the 
relative rank of the Rhetorical Ideas. Though Duty, Vir- 
tue, and Happiness, are equal in importance, yet the 
three forms under w^hich they present themselves are 
not. The first of these forms is the Religious, then 
follows the Ethical, and lastly the Political. Under 
these, again, stand the categories Truth, Possibility, and 
Actuality,* in the order in which they are here men- 
tioned. Now, in every separate development of a sub- 
ordinate Idea, if all that pertains to it is not fused 
with a higher Idea, and interwoven at all points with 
the development of it, the steady flow of the oration is 
retarded and checked. Suppose that a sacred orator is 
discoursing with reference to the categories Truth and 
Actuality, — e. g., that he washes to present the events 
of his time from a religious point of view. Beginning 
with the development of Truth, he may, provided he has 
reached a proper place for it, cast a passing glance at 
Actuality ; for description based upon this latter sub- 
ordinate Idea, if he should begin with it, or should give it 
a development independent of that of Truth, would be a 
dead stop, and not progress, and could not well be con- 
nected either w^ith what followed or with what preceded. 
An orator before the court, or before the people, com- 
mits the same error, if, when he might make the higher 
Idea of Duty or of Virtue predominant, he neglects it, 
and allows himself in a development, entirely uncon- 
nected with it, of the Idea of Civil or Positive Law, 
which he ought to have employed only as a corollary 
and confirmation of the former. With all the modesty 

* Book I., Chapters X., XH. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 187 

that becomes ns Moderns in criticizing the great models 
of Antiquity, I venture to charge ^Eschines with com- 
mitting this latter error in his oration against Ctesiphon. 
Inasmuch as his attack upon Demosthenes was in 
strictness based upon the Idea of Virtue, and inasmuch 
as he wished to represent his life and character as un- 
worthy and detestable, it was a mistake to dwell so long, 
as he does, in the very beginning, upon the positive 
statutes that might take from his opponent the crown 
which had been decreed to him. We feel, in the perusal, 
how weak this whole first part of his oration is, and how 
little it prepares for the succeeding part, in which he ex- 
amines the life of Demosthenes ; nay, between these two 
parts there is a chasm over which he could not possibly 
carry his hearers without their minds becoming entirely 
cold and emotionless. That Demosthenes perceived this 
mistake, it seems to me is evident, from the circumstance 
that he protests in the very beginning of his oration, 
against the demand of his opponent, that he shall in the 
defence follow the same plan which he did in the attack; 
far from doing this, he rather sets forth the Idea of Vir- 
tue as the Idea upon which he shall found his oration, 
and not until after he has refuted a great portion of the 
objections brought against him, by a history of his past 
life, does he occupy himself with the examination of 
the positive laws which seem to be adverse to the pro- 
position of Ctesiphon. Hence, from the beginning of 
this oration to the end, there is no pause to be perceived, 
but the mind is kept continually on the stretch, and 
borne along unceasingly from one important point to 
another. 

To impart this constant flow to an oration, is perhaps 
the most diflicult among the many difficult things in 



188 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

Eloquence. A poem, like the poet himself, is born ; in 
some fine moment of inspiration it stands out before 
him an articulated whole, and, so far as the plan at 
least is concerned, is completed without further effort. 
But as virtue is born with no man, but is acquired only 
through a long series of efforts, so likewise the oration, 
considered as a moral product, is never complete in its 
first origin, but becomes so only by means of labor and 
pains perse veringly applied to it. Nay, inasmuch as the 
activity even of the most virtuous man can never be 
wholly perfect, i. e., can never be wholly conformed to 
the law and at the same time to existing relations, the 
question may arise, whether the oration, which, according 
to my assertion at least, is a moral act and process, can 
be perfect, — a question which I should answer in the 
negative. The Adaptation which has been spoken of 
in a former chapter, can itself be reached only approxi- 
mately ; for, in order to be perfect, an absolutely divine 
knowledge of all characters and relations would be 
requisite. The second law also, laid down by us, that 
of constant Progress, in its perfection can belong only 
to the action of God in the government of the world, 
but never to human action, which is ever imperfect. 
But be this as it may, so much is certain — and with 
respect to it every man will agree with me, and the more 
readily the better orator he is — that, in the plan of the 
oration as it is first presented to the mind, the thoughts 
are never found already arranged in this constant pro- 
gressive flow, but must be afterwards wrought into it. 
As they first present themselves, they are hard, brittle, 
and separate particles; the mind must seize them, and, 
by grinding them incessantly upon each other, crush 
them, until the friction kindles the mass, and it runs like 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 189 

molten ore. The higher Ideas, thrown, as it were, into 
this solution, take up the thoughts which belong to 
them, and which, now that they are (luid, obey the 
mystic power that attracts like to like, so that they form 
themselves into a firm chain. 

Here the truth of our assertion becomes very apparent 
again, that it is the Cliaracter which makes the orator. 
Could the most brilliant Imagination, and the most pro- 
found and penetrating Reason, succeed in so elaborating 
the thoughts, if they were not guided and supported by 
the power of the moral Will ? Both Imagination and 
Reason, taken by themselves alone, lead the orator away 
from the sharply-drawn line along which he should move, 
and seduce him into a useless pause, and an idle, undue 
unfolding of his thoughts. They can find no interest at 
all in the elaboration of the unpretending, highly simple 
conceptions borrowed from common life; at the same 
time, they grow weary, and, finally, try to exchange an 
irksome business for one more agreeable, unless they are . 
actuated and urged on by another power. And this 
power is not the mere empty rage for shining before an 
assembly ; for vanity is not capable of such a tension of 
mind; nay, vanity does not even feel itself to be called 
upon to make an effort, since it is satisfied with a loosely- 
constructed oration garnished with some showy pas- 
sages. For the hearer is capable of criticizing such an 
oration, and of admiring it; but let him be ever so culti- 
vated, he can never do full justice to an excellence lying 
so deep as the steady, unceasing sweep of thought. He 
only feels its effects upon him, like the breathing of the 
living Spirit, without knowing the cause ; and for the 
very reason that so much that is Beautiful and Excellent 
arises in his own mind, he forgets that the orator has 



190 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE , OR, 

spoken excellently. That Dernosthenean determination, 
that iron diligence, which is requisite in order to the 
formation of the rhetorical, constantly progressive, train 
of thought, can spring only out of the endeavor to fill 
the minds of others with those great Ideas in which the 
orator has lost himself; the endeavor to satisfy his own 
conscience, and to employ only that which can rightfully 
contribute towards his success. And what is such an 
endeavor but the moral power of Character in its finest 
development and highest dignity ? 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETOmC. 191 



CHAPTER VII. 



THE LAW OF VIVACITY. 



In the beginning of this treatise, we attempted to 
seize the active process of the orator in its origin, as it 
unfolds itself under the guidance of certain definite 
moral Ideas. In this second part of the work, we have 
sought to become acquainted with the nature of the 
representations with which the leading Idea of the orator 
becomes encompassed, as well as with the rules in ac- 
cordance with which these representations are linked 
together. We have now^ to conceive of the active pro- 
cess of the orator, as it comes forth into language from 
his inward being, and here we find that his progress in 
the development of his Idea, and the effect produced by 
it upon the hearers, cause his own relation to them, 
though remaining the same in substance, to change every 
moment in respect to individual circumstances; and we 
demand that this active process of his, without wavering 
in its essential character and purpose, do, nevertheless, 
through a constant variation in the form, keep company 
with all these different variations in his relations. This 
is the third and last law of the Rhetorical presentation of 
thought. We denominate it the law of Vivacity* Like 
the former laws that have been mentioned, this law also 



* The term in the oricrinfil is Lebendir/l-eit, and is intended to denote a 
vital flexibility in thought and diction. The word Vivacity is an inadequate 
one. — Tr. 



192 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

is of Ethical origin, and wholly foreign to the Philo- 
sophical, as well as the Poetical, presentation of thought. 
In both of these latter the mind isolates itself, and since 
it is not its design to exert an influence upon the circum- 
stances which surround it, so neither does it allow cir- 
cumstances to exert an influence upon itself. Hence the 
unvarying uniformity of the state and condition in which 
it remains from the beginning to the end of its work, 
allows the mind, in these latter cases, to give to its pro- 
ducts a fixed, unchangeable form. Moral activity, on 
the contrary, would entirely preclude such an isolation ; 
it is itself a constant reception of outward influences, 
and an equally constant reaction upon them ; and since 
all that is outward is never still, but fluctuates restlessly 
hither and thither, man, when in action, must change 
his position in respect to Ihe outward every moment 
This is not bending the Will to the force of circum- 
stances, but is in reality the only means of obtaining 
dominion over them ; their constantly varying pressure 
would utterly overwhelm, if the manner of meeting them 
did not vary with equal rapidity. True virtue, on the 
side of law, is indeed unalterably the same, but on the 
side of life, is constantly changing and new. It would 
betray a want of elasticity in the character, if one should 
continue the same way of action in entirely different 
circumstances. 

This change in the position and movements of the 
agent, peculiar to moral activity of all sorts, can be per- 
ceived in the case of the activity of the orator, only in 
the thoughts and the words, and in their constantly 
varying turns, since the orator makes use of thoughts 
and words only, in ofder to the realization of his Idea. 
These turns are the so-called rhetorical figures : an ex- 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 193 

pression which must not be taken to denote mere orna- 
ments coldly and artificially contrived to set off the dis- 
course (to which the expression might indeed lead), but 
turns and lively movements in thought and language, 
prompted by the imagination under the guidance of 
rhetorical Affection in conflict with the opposing senti- 
ments of the hearers ; for which reason, perhaps, these 
latter expressions are preferable, because they are liable 
to no such misunderstanding. Similar turns arise easily 
and naturally in the social intercourse of cultivated and 
lively minds. For since social life of the higher order 
involves the mutual cultivation of minds through the 
interchange of views, each man alternately playing 
the part of the orator and the hearer, it is evident that 
although from the language of such social life nothing 
indeed is to be learned in relation to the rhetorical series 
of representations, because it is, of necessity, fragmen- 
tary in its matter, yet much is to be learned from it in 
relation to the turns of thoughts and words, which be- 
come more lively and forcible on account of the closer 
action and reaction within this sphere. The so-called 
figures which are employed by orators, and which are 
specifically enumerated by Rhetoricians, are in reality 
only such turns of thought and expression as arise in the 
active intercourse of men, elevated and polished in order 
to adapt them to a higher connection. Hence, if the 
orator would employ figures rightly, he should not bor- 
row them from manuals of Rhetoric, or even from the 
most perfect works in Eloquence, but should go back to 
the language of common intercourse, and appropriate to 
his own purposes all those living movements and turns 
in thought and expression, the influence of which he has 
felt upon himself, and has also imparted to others. Or 

17 



194 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

rather, the orator must realize the hearer to himself with 
definite features, with all his opposing views and inclina- 
tions, and represent the whole oratorical process to him- 
self, not monologically, but dialogically ; then he will 
know instinctively the proper time* to waken attention, 
to instruct, to exhort, to show the connection or the oppo- 
sition of several thoughts, to meet an objection, to hurl 
it back again, to place a truth in clear light by an unex- 
pected surprising turn, to pass from one truth to another, 
to restrain his feelings, to give them full play, etc. Having 
such a lively sense of his position and relations, and of 
the changes which he is producing in them by the prog- 
ress which he is constantly making, his thoughts, and 
consequently their expression, will take on a different 
form at every step. 

But if this alternation of forms in the rhetorical pres- 
entation of thought, is of ethical origin, as we have 
endeavored to show, it is also the most powerful and 
effectual means of all in exciting AfTection.f For Affec- 
tion in the hearer is kindled by Affection in the orator; 
and how can the orator show more plainly that he is 
wholly animated by an Idea, and by the striving to im- 
part it to others, than by exhausting all the most lively 
forms of presentation ? Adaptation, in the discourse, 
taken by itself alone, would not produce such an im- 
pression ; even the firmest and most labored chain of 
thought, unless each link in it were distinguished by a 
peculiar structure, would, in the end, only weary by a 
fixed uniformity. But by means of the peculiar, and 
often surprising turn, in which each new representation 
is announced, it is made to pierce more deeply into the 

* Cicero, Orator, 39 et 40. 

t Jam vero ad affectus nil magis ducit. — Quint. IX. 1. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 19'' 

mind, which, incessantly stimulated on so many sides, 
is compelled, in the end, to yield itself up without resist- 
ance to the exercise of Affection. 

This influence upon the Affections is the distinguishing 
mark by which we can recognize Rhetorical figures, and 
can separate them from Poetical. The latter are created 
by the Imagination for the Imagination ; they are a 
painting, a picturing, a representing. The Rhetorical 
figures are produced by the Mind, using this term to 
denote the whole inner being of man so far as it is under 
the guidance of the Will, for the Mind ; they should 
seize, enchain, move, carry away. Poetical figures are 
brilliant and adorned, and poetic art delights in their 
splendor ; Rhetorical figures are a naked power, which 
avoids all pomp, because its influence is liable to be 
hindered thereby, or to be directed to the Imagination 
instead of the Affections.* If the orator would acquire 
a quick feelitjg and an unerring sense for Rhetorical 
figures, let him read Demosthenes ; for in respect to him, 
the Ancients boast that he never brought forward a 
thought without expressing it in some peculiar figure.f 
In reading Demosthenes, we shall also perceive most 
clearly, how great is the difference between Rhetorical 
and Poetical figures ; for no style can be freer from all 

* Aristotle {Rhetoric III. 4) remarks that the simile is more suitable in 
poetry, and that the metaphor is the only ornament in which the orator may 
indulge. — The reason of this highly trutliful and important remark lies in 
the fact, that the simile is too deUtikd for the rapid and practical movement 
of oratory. Eloquence requires that all illustrative matter be swift and glanc- 
ing : simply flashing light, without impeding the progress. The metaphor 
is the condensed simile, and the simile is the expanded metaphor. Hence 
the former is the orator's figure, and the latter the poet's. — Tr. 

t Cicero Orator, c. 39. — Et vero nuUus fere ab eo locus sine quadam con- 
formatione sententise dicitur, * 



196 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

that we denominate poetry of expression, than that of 
Demosthenes. In saying this, however, we would by no 
means assert, that none of those figures which are com- 
monly termed Poetical, are to be permitted in an ora- 
tion. Everything depends upon the application, upon 
relative position and influence ; and it is very possible 
indeed, that in a different use and connection the figure 
would at one time depict to the Imagination, at another 
awaken Affection. 

There being this difierence between Poetical and Rhe- 
torical figures, the specific enumeration of the former is 
as proper, as that of the latter is improper. Since the 
Imagination renders itself independent of the external 
world, and allows it no influence upon its creations, its 
forms are by no means innumerable in their manifold- 
ness ; for their source is in the Imagination alone, which, 
notwithstanding all its opulence, is, like every human 
faculty, limited by certain definable laws. Hence, in the 
enumeration of the different species of poetry, as well 
as in the specification of Poetical figures, complete- 
ness is attainable. But since the moral activity of 
man, on the contrary, is constantly conditioned by his 
relations to the external world, all the changes of 
which can never be computed, it is impossible to enu- 
merate with satisfactory completeness the forms under 
which this activity appears. For this reason, we may 
not in Eloquence, as in Poetry, assume certain species 
distinguished by Form and Matter; and hence it was 
an absurd undertaking to attempt to bring under certain 
fixed rubrics the turns which the thoughts of the orator 
receive, under the influence of the constantly varying 
circumstances amidst which his activity is put forth. 
This mistake would never have been made if the ethical 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 197 

character of Eloquence had been recognized, and if 
Eloquence had been properly distinguished from Poetry. 
That the undertaking was a failure is perfectly evident. 
There are fine and noble turns of thought in Demos- 
thenes, which no Rhetorician has yet put on his list ; and 
many have also been invented by orators of the Church, 
that were entirely unknown to the Ancients. 

Owing to this confounding of Poetical and Rhetorical 
figures, there arose among the Ancients an entirely false 
view of the use and influence of the latter. Cicero and 
Quintilian agree in this, that they may, in part at least, 
be employed as adornment merely, of the oration, and 
to please the hearer.* But this should never be the 
purpose for which they are employed, if, as we affirm, 
they are not productions of the Imagination for the 
Imagination, but of the Mind for the Mind. Quintilian 
gives another excellent rule, but one that by no means 
harmonizes with his other statement just cited, when he 
says, that all that does not promote the design of the 
orator, hinders it ; f and certainly, nothing so little pro- 
motes, and consequently so greatly hinders, the awaken- 
ing of a strong Affection that seizes upon the whole 
mind, and breaks forth into acts, as that light play of 
the Imagination which leaps from figure to figure. 
Hence, we assert that no figure should be allowed in 
an oration, unless each and every word in it, according 
to the expression of Quintilian, J awaken an Affection 
of some sort. Any other use of figures on the part of 



* Ex collocatione verborum quae sumuntur quasi lumina, magnum afFe- 
runt ornatLim orationi. — Cicero, Orator, c. 39. — Major pars liaiTiin figurO/- 
rum posita est in delectatione. — Quintilian. IX. 3. 

t Ohstat cnim quidquid non adjuvat. — Quintilian, VIII, 6. 

X Quot verba, totidem aflfectus. — Quint. IX- 3. 

17* 



198 



OR, 



the orator would betray a departure from his purpose, 
i. e., a moral weakness, and instead of contributing to 
his design, would only stand in its way, i. e., would leave 
the mind cold, instead of warming it. 

Furthermore, figures, which consist in peculiar turns 
of thought, are likewise subject to those laws of Adap- 
tation and constant Progress, which we have laid down 
for the guidance of Rhetorical discourse generally. If 
the orator wastes the most impressive and powerful of 
these figures upon trivial occasions, or employs them 
imprudently at a time when the mind is not prepared for 
so violent an impression, this unsuitable application of 
them will hinder and destroy their influence. And since, 
in order to prevent Affection from becoming chilled, the 
thoughts themselves must run on in a continual series, 
it is also necessary, in order to the same end, that the 
turn which one thought has taken, easily and naturally 
lose itself in that which the following thought will 
assume. In this connection, it is also to be remarked, 
that the most perfect concatenation of figures loses its 
effect if it is repeated successively, after short intervals ; 
for the mind once impressed, is immediately rid of the 
impression, by the repetition of that which produced it, 
and is led away to an idle contemplation of the mere 
Form, irrespective of the Matter; the constant recurrence 
of which would, in this case, produce only a poetico- 
musical enjoyment. 

And as we have seen that every offence against the 
Rhetorical laws is to be regarded as a moral defect, so 
also the wrong use of figures is not to be ascribed to a 
want of genius, but only to a weakness of character. It 
is vanity, if the orator is profuse in figures for the sake 
of show and ornament ; it is obtuseness of moral feeling, 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 199 

if the orator employs them unsuitably; it is sluggishness, 
incapacity of enthusiasm in respect to lofty Ideas, if the 
orator does not understand how to give to a thought 
those forcible turns by which alone he can produce the 
designed impression. Hence, not by means of the mere 
knowledge of this or of other rules, but only by means 
of those moral excellences which are opposed to the 
faults above mentioned, will the orator be enabled to 
employ figures rightly and with effect. In order to this, 
a mind is needed which can warm towards moral Ideas; 
which, along with all its inspiration and enthusiasm, can 
keep up a calm, accurate survey of circumstances, and 
which is far more interested in the true advantage of 
the hearer, in his improvement and elevation, than in his 
applause. 



200 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE I OR, 



CHAPTER VIII. 



PROSE. 



In the beginning of this Second Book, we promised to 
sketch the main features of a theory of Prose, and to 
derive them from the ethical principle which we have 
sought to establish as the foundation of Rhetoric. We 
now attempt to fulfil this promise. 

We shall first set forth the distinguishing marks of 
Prose, while at the same time, for the sake of greater 
distinctness, we shall compare them with the peculiar 
characteristics of Poetic discourse. 

The first difference between Poetry and Prose lies in 
the period. Not that the period is peculiar to Prose 
alone, and might be dispensed with in finished Poetry ; 
but in Poetry it appears only as a necessary form in the 
connection of thoughts, upon which no special emphasis 
is laid. In Prose, on the contrary, while it retains this 
first original characteristic, it acquires a still higher sig- 
nificance, and seems to serve particular purposes. Hence 
we require in Prose, that each period be marked by 
something peculiar to itself, and be distinguished from 
what precedes and follows it, by its form, while in Poetry, 
we do not regard it as a fault, and hardly notice it, if 
several sentences exceedingly simple, and entirely similar 
in their structure, follow one another. 

The second difference lies in the words used. In 
Poetry, every word has worth, not only by virtue of its 
sense, but also by virtue of its sound and its mere ex- 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 201 

istence ; the most important and the most unimportant 
words, in respect to sense, as integral parts of the same 
whole, have equal rank, like citizens of a free State. In 
Prose, on the contrary, the worth of words differs accord- 
ing to their sense ; in every sentence there are one or 
more words which, by their peculiar position, are ele- 
vated and placed in the light, so that the others are sub- 
ordinate to them, and seem to be designed only to 
elevate and minister to them. 

The third difference lies in the relation between Ions: 
and short syllables, which, in Poetry, is termed metre; 
in Prose is termed number. The difference between the 
two may, perhaps, be best exhibited under the following 
general characteristics. Metre, though adapted to the 
Idea, yet appears as something independent in itself, 
and seeks to attract attention to itself, aside from the 
thoughts and feelings expressed through it. Hence it 
not merely determines, with the greatest exactness, the 
number and succession of long and short syllables ; it 
also separates them into individual metrical members, 
the freqaent repetition of which, impresses their peculiar 
form so much the more, upon the ear and the mind. If 
the difference between long and short syllables is not 
duly marked in a sentence. Poetry makes up for what its 
form would lose thereby in peculiarity and independence 
of character, by counting and limiting the number of the 
syllables which compose the individual line, and by the 
regular recurrence of the same sound at the end of the 
verse. Number, on the contrary, far from separating 
itself from the thought, remains constantly subordinate 
to it, and it would be regarded as one of the greatest 
faults of a Prose period, if one of its parts, by a succes- 
sion of tones too striking and too agreeable to the ear. 



202 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

should attract attention from the Matter to the Form. 
Number, therefore, arranges the succession and number 
of long and short syllables, only so far as is necessary in 
order that the impression of the discourse upon the sen- 
suous organs may be adapted to the impression which 
is to be produced upon the mind, so that the mind may 
not feel less, because the ear has either experienced no 
agreeable sensation at all, or has been offended.* And 
that number may not usurp an independence that does 
not belong to it, it is necessary, and is also universally 
required, that it be adjusted most accurately to the Mat- 
ter, as well as the Form ; that it vary with every new 
thought, nay, every new period, and thus flow forth in 
constant manifoldness. 

If, as I believe, the peculiar characteristics of Prose 
have been sufficiently exhibited in what has been said, the 
question now arises : From what principles can we de- 
duce such a form of discourse, and show that it must be 
constituted so, and not otherwise ? This problem seems 
never to have been proposed even, while yet a similar 
one respecting the forms of Poetry has employed many 
theorizers, and has been successfully solved by them. 
Why, then, is there Prose at all? What right has it to 
exist by the side of Poetry ? Should men, generally, 
speak only in verse, and is it owing merely to con- 
venience or inability, that they do not ? We feel that 
this cannot possibly be, for there are modes of presenting 
thought in which poetical forms cannot be employed at 
all. And this does not arise from their intrinsic difficulty, 
for finished Prose has its peculiar excellences, and, con- 
sequently, its difficulties also, which are not easier to 
master than those of versification. If, now. Prose is to 

* See Gibbon's Miscellaneous Works^ p. 455. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC, 203 

maintain itself as a peculiar form of presenting thought, 
the rightfulness of its claims must be demonstrable from 
-ational grounds. Or shall we, after having deduced the 
necessity of the forms of Poetry, represent Prose as a 
thorough and complete opposite to them, and consider 
the matter as settled in this way, because there can be 
nothing which has not its opposite ? But, not to men- 
tion that this principle is not justifiable in itself, it could 
not, even if it were correct, find its application here, be- 
cause although Prose and Verse indeed differ from each 
other, they by no means constitute a proper antithesis, 
the members of which run parallel to each other, and 
have purely opposite and mutually correspondent marks. 

The right of Prose to assert its place beside Poetry, 
and the necessity of the characteristic marks perceived 
in it, can be satisfactorily shown, only in case it is con- 
strued from ethical principles. In deriving the rules to 
which the moral activity of man, so far as it makes use 
of discourse for its purposes, is subjected, we had arrived 
at the law of Vivacity ; while we further develop it, 
we shall see Prose with all that is peculiar and distinctive 
in it, originating frcm it. 

For, in the first place, since according to the law of Vi- 
vacity, each thought should appear with a peculiar turn 
and movement, it must naturally impart a peculiar form 
and structure to the period also, in which it is presented. 
On this ethical ground, therefore, the carefulness with 
which the period is formed in Prose, is explained and 
justified; while, on the contrary, a similar carefulness in 
Poetry, would not only be unnecessary, but a fault also. 
For the change in the form of the period is expressive 
of a change in the mental state, — a change which is 
required in the orator, but not allowable in the poet, since 



204 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE ; OR, 

# 

he purposes to exhibit only one and the same tone of 
mind. With the same right that figures in the thought 
are assumed in Rhetoric, we believe we may assume 
figures in the period, which are to be distinguished still 
further from figures in the language. Moreover, much 
th it is cited by Rhetoricians under this latter name, is a 
peculiarity in the structure of the period, rather than in 
the position of the words, — e- g-i the climax, the an- 
tithesis, the isocolon, the prosapodosis, and the coinotcs 
arising from the connection of the epibole and epiphora. 
But not only does the law of Vivacity exert its influ- 
ence upon the structure of the period; it also exerts it, 
secondly, upon the position of the words. For since the 
greatest care must be taken that the thoughts do not 
flow into each other, so as to form one uniform mass, 
it is evident that those particular words which express 
each particular thought most plainly should be made 
prominent, and be distinguished from the others. From 
this ethical view of Prose, not only is the peculiar em- 
phasis laid upon the most important words, — such 
as the substantive, adjective, verb, — explained, but also 
the origin of the more exquisite figures of speech, — 
such as paranomasia, paradiastole, antanaclasis, epa- 
node, diaphora, homoeoptoton, etc. The use of these 
figures in Poetry, is condemned of right, because in 
Poetry the essential thing is not the distinguishing of 
one thing above another, but the connecting of one 
thing with another. And if Poetry has appropriated 
one or another of these figures, — as e. ^., the homoeop- 
toton, from which rhyme seems to have arisen, — it has 
yet entirely altered it; for in Prose, a proposition is indi- 
vidualized by the homoeoptoton; in Poetry, the metrical 
lines are linked and united together by rhyme. 



OUTLINES OF A SYSTEMATIC RHETORIC. 205 

Finally, in the third place, the law of Vivacity per- 
mits neither metre, nor rhyme, nor the numrratioii of 
syllables; for through these, the outward form of \y:c- 
sentation acquires a repose and an evenness of jxo- 
portion, it expresses a complacency, which, indeed, I) 
longs necessarily to the finished unfolding of poeiic; 
ideas, but which must ever be foreign to the active p 
cess of the orator, which is full of Affection in itt^elf, a.. 
seeks to awaken Affection in the hearer. Nevertheless, 
since that which is peculiar in the Rhetorical thought 
seeks to express itself, not only in the structure of the 
period, and the position of the words, but also in the 
relation cf the long and short syllables; since, in order 
to the more distinct separation of the thoughts, there 
must be the slower pace of some, and the more rapid 
flight of others, and this difference must be made per- 
ceptible to the mind through the ear, the law of Viva- 
city requires a mingling of syllables, in respect to their 
quantity, suited to the existing thought, but goijig no 
further than to vary with each period, and never occu- 
pying the mind at the expense of the thought. For if 
this were the case, the orator would betray a compla- 
cency which is proper in the Poet, but which is forbidden 
to him by the law of Vivacity ; and, moreover, he would 
fail to reach the end at which he aims, the production of 
Affection in the hearer, if the hearer should come to be 
as much delighted by the musical enjoyment of the 
melody, as impressed by the force of the thought. 

18 



206 ELOQUENCE A VIRTUE. 



CHAPTER IX. 



CONCLUSION. 



We have thus far endeavored to unfold and perfect 
our theory of the ethical nature of Eloquence, in three 
different ways. By showing, first, that all of its essential 
laws are of moral origin ; secondly, that a morally good 
character, alone, imparts the inclination and the ability 
to follow these laws; thirdly, that the orator is sure of 
success, only in proportion as he strictly obeys these 
moral laws, and puts away all references of a less pure 
nature. 

And as, in running out these laws, we have arrived at 
the construction of Prose as a necessary form of pre- 
senting thought, we believe we may here lay down our 
pen, inasmuch as what has been said will be sufficient 
to enable him who has followed thus far, to form a judg- 
ment respecting the correctness of our hypothesis; and 
it will not be difficult for him who falls in with it, to 
apply the principles we have laid down, to the subject 
of Declamation, and other secondary subjects connected 
with Eloquence, of which we have not treated. 



SUPPLEMENT. 



Note I. Page 176. 

The frequent allusions by Theremin to Demosthenes will receive 
additional illustration from the following sketch of " The Rhetorical 
Character of Demosthenes," which we translate from another work of 
his, published under the title of Demosthenes und Massillon. A con- 
densed summary of this work, which the author intended should be the 
concrete statement of his systematic theory, as seen realized in the 
two masters of Grecian and French Eloquence, may be found in the 
Blbliolheca Sacra, Vol. VI. pp, 1— 26.— Tr. 

" From the foregoing representation, it follows that even if his char- 
acter cannot be cleared of all stain, yet the praise of energy, decision, 
perseverance, and self-denial for his country, is due in the highest 
degree to Demosthenes ; that he succeeded in impressing the stamp of 
these virtues upon his Eloquence, and that to them it owes its high and 
wonderful excellence. He himself seems to have regarded the moral 
state of the orator as his most important qualification. This is evident 
from a remark, made under very grave circumstances, and one that 
puts the necessary qualification upon that famous dictum of his respect- 
ing " delivery," which we have already cited. " It is not the words 
of the orator that are most worthy of admiration," — he says in the Ora- 
tion for the Crown, — " nor the tones of his voice, but it is the fact 
that he has the same aims with the people, and the same objects of 
hatred and love with his father-land." 

We shall now endeavor to group the principal features of the Elo- 
quence of Demosthenes in a brief sketch. In no one of these can the 
moral origin be mistaken ; and as we proceed with the delineation, it 
will seem as if we were describing the inmost and essential nature of 
Eloquence, and not the peculiarity of an orator. 

The first characteristic in the Eloquence of Demosthenes, — which 
might also be the first in the ideal of Eloquence, — is that his own 



208 



SUPPLEMENT. 



personality and all regard to the applause of the auditor, are wholly 
sacrificed to the matter in hand, to the aim and object of the discourse. 
No orator of ancient or modern times has practised this austere self- 
denial in an equal degree. But this is confessedly a moral quality, 
and in most men finds an insuperable hindrance in self-love and 
vanity. 

Ordinai'ily the orator, while he moves forward to the goal, will not 
neglect to pluck many a flower on the way, and by port and gesture 
exhibit himself most advantageously to his hearers. If Cicero is in- 
ferior to Demosthenes, it is principally owing to a vanity that protrudes 
his personality with a prominence disproportioned to the subject matter. 
Not so Demosthenes. He would not shine, but reach his aim; he 
would not win, but carr}^ away the hearer ; he does not seek the hearer's 
applause, but his assent. All merely outward embellishments, with 
which even christian orators overload and deck their discourse, often 
in an offensive degree, are ever contemned in the most decided man- 
ner by this heathen orator. In this his greatness mainly lies. But it 
is precisely this greatness which is the cause that we do not fully appre- 
ciate him, and that he does not come up to our expectations. We 
demand of the orator, that he exhibit his subject to us by means of 
ornaments that do not belong to it ; we demand of him paint, false 
curls, and a drapery rich in folds. Where we see nothing but muscles, 
sinews, and naked limbs, we complain of dryness. That the Athe- 
nians not merely endured Demosthenes but declared him to be the 
first of orators, shows that, even in the time of their decline, they were 
superior to the cultivated nations of the present day in the right esti- 
mation of things. 

Perhaps no one has so correctly apprehended, and so well des- 
cribed, the characteristic of the eloquence of Demosthenes just men- 
tioned, as Fenelon, who, in his " Dialogues of the Dead," makes De- 
mosthenes speak to Cicero as follows : " You turned the attention of 
the hearers to your own person ; I turned it solely to the subject upon 
which I spoke. You were admired by them ; they forgot me while 
they thought only of the resolution to which I would determine them. 
You furnished them an intellectual entertainment ; I smote, I hurled 
down, I dashed in pieces like a thunderbolt. When they had heard 
you they exclaimed: ' How finely he has spoken !' When they had 
heard me they cried : ' Up ! war agamst Philip ! ' You they praised ; 
when 1 had spoken they were so carried away that they did not think 
of praising me. You adorned your orations ; in mine they discovered 



SUPPLEMENT. 209 

no ornament ; they found in them only definite, forcible, distinct argu- 
ments, and then applications of them like lightning, which they could 
not resist." 

If Demosthenes confines himself closely to his subject, he has never- 
theless completely investigated it ; he has contemplated it upon all sides, 
and in all relations ; he has searched it through in all directions, and has 
penetrated into all its recesses. All the grounds and reasons that 
make for his purpose, and which are discoverable, he has discovered, 
and explored carefully ; of all that can be used and applied for his 
advantage, not the least thing has escaped him. The ti ea^urcs which 
he has gained by this labor, which he has dug up and brouph: to the light, 
out of the subject itself, put him in a condition to despise all that is 
foreign to the thing in hand. We cannot but be astonished at the 
richness of the materials which stand at his command. When we 
have read half through one of his longer orations, — that against 
Leptines, that against Midias, the one for the Crown, — we think that 
now, certainly, the subject is completely exhausted. But we are mis- 
taken ; the most forcible reasons, the most stunning thunder-claps 
have not yet come, and we are still to be astounded by them. He has 
such a superabundance of arguments that he sometimes wastes a very 
effective one in order to fill up a pause caused by the clerk, when he 
cannot immediately lay his hand upon a law-paper which must be 
read before proceeding further. Still greater and more glorious trea- 
sures than Demosthenes found in the subjects handled by him, are to 
be found in those which belong to the sphere of Sacred Eloquence ; 
but just as great singleness of effort, in searching, and toiling, is 
needed in order to bring them out of the depths where they lie. 

But such richness of thought must be elaborated. And here, it is 
not enough to distribute the thoughts under certain heads, and to avoid 
all infringements of logical rules. On the contrary, every thought 
must have that place to which it is carried by what precedes, and 
where it carries what follows ; where it does not stop but propagates 
the previous movement ; where it is not only immediately understood 
by the hearer, but also strengthens his convictions, and heightens his 
emotions. The thoughts of the orator must be waves, of which one 
urges on another. But this is possible, only when, according to psy- 
chological laws, their series corresponds to the series of thoughts and 
feelings they are to evoke in the hearer. This disposition and arrange- 
ment of thought demands as great effort, and labor, as was necessary 
in order to its production. In this excellence also, which indeed 
18* 



210 SUPPLEMENT. 

lies very deep, and can be known only by a fundamental study of 
his works, Demosthenes surpasses all other orators. His thoughts 
form a concluded series, no member of which could change its place 
without injury to the whole; and as they follow one another consecu- 
tively, so the thoughts and feelings which are to be excited by them in 
the hearer, follow one another, and develop themselves, in the most 
natural manner. The hearer is in the very beginning seized upon by 
a wholesome and salutary power, to which the best faculties of his 
being yield themselves without resistance ; and since he is led along 
on a path where there is neither hindrance nor interruption, he follows 
on, step by step, to the end, not only because he must follow, but also 
because he follows willingly and gladly. 

This firmly linked chain of thought, is. In Demosthenes, made red- 
hot with the most live fire of emotion. That the Ancients knew how 
to estimate this excellence in his eloquence, is clear from the above- 
cited passage of Dionysius, who confesses that he was transported into 
a Corybantic inspiration, by him. In modern times, we are inclined 
to deny him this excellence. We seem to take him for a cold and 
arid man, who, according to the favorite phrase, addresses himself only 
to the understanding, and not to the heart, and with whom the whole 
problem is, upon grounds of reason, to convince of the justice of his 
cause, and the utility of his propositions. Were this so, he had lacked 
the most essential characteristic of the orator, and we should not have 
had cause to wonder at his torrent-like power ; for we are not carried 
away by mere conviction but by impassioned conviction. Now it Is 
indeed true, that he always satisfies the requisitions of the under- 
standing, — nay, that he usually puts his thoughts into the enthyme- 
matic form. But Is it a fact that thought is incompatible with feeling ? 
Rather, is not the connection of Ideas a thread by which the fire of 
emotion runs down so much the easier ? Is not feeling the nobler, and 
therefore the mightier also, in noble natures, the more it is borne up 
by thought ? Is it not a modern judgment, that feeling necessarily 
presupposes confusion of thought ? One may not indeed seek the 
softer and tenderer feelings in Demosthenes, — the struggle against 
Phlhp afforded him little opportunity for their unfolding. But if one 
seeks the strong, masculine feelings, — love for native country, enthu- 
siasm for the glory of noble deeds, hatred against all that is wrong, 
indignation against selfishness and perfidy, — the words of Demos- 
thenes, more than any other human words, are pervaded by the fire of 
those affections; and it still glows on in them, notwithstanding the 
lapse of BO many centuries, enough to fire every noble heart. 



SUPPLEMENT. 211 

To this perfection of Matter, iu Demosthenes, perfection of Form is 
correspondent. The highest praise, in this respect, is ascribed to him 
by the critics of antiquity, especially by Dionysius. His style, says 
this critic, is not the rough and hard style of Thucydides, nor the soft 
and polished style of Isocrates, but he struck a happy mean between 
both. In this he is to be compared with Sophocles, who stands in a 
similar relation to Aeschylus on the one hand, and Euripides on the 
other. In fact, confinement to one of either of these two extremes 
would have been a onesidedness highly prejudicial to an orator who 
WHS to call up, and delineate the most diverse emotions. This freedom 
whieh Demosthenes aims at, and reaches, is nevertheless not licen- 
tiousness. On the contrary, his prose is, in its kind, as perfect and 
finished as metncal composition. For example, the greatest attention 
is bestowed by Demosthenes upon the sequence of long and short syl- 
lables; not in order to produce a regularly recurring metre, but in 
order to express the most diverse emotions of the mind by a suitable 
and ever var^-ing rythm. It may be remarked in general, that by the 
study of Demosthenes and the ancient critics, we are introduced to 
marvels of prose style at which we cannot but be astonished. The ex- 
hibition of them would be impossible without the aid of the Greek 
originals, and would exceed our design in this sketch. As, in Demos- 
thenes, the prose rythm never parses over into a poetical metre, so 
also his language, as to its elements, never loses itself in the sphere of 
poetry, but remains, as the language of rhetorical discourse ever 
should, that of common life and cultivated society ; and the uncommon 
charm of this rhetorical prose lies precisely in the fact, that these sim- 
ple elements of speech are treated with the same care which, usually, 
only the poet is wont to devote to diction. Demosthenes himself was 
well aware of this study which he bestowed upon his style, and he 
required it of the orator. It is not enough, said he, that the orator 
in order to prepare for delivery in public, icrite down his thoughts ; 
he must as it were, have scuJplured them in hrass. * The comparison 
of pro>e composition with sculpture appears to have been a favorite 
one with the ancient critics generally, as Dionysius also remarks of 
Demosthenes, Plato, and Isocrates, " their productions were not so 
much works of writing, as of carving and embossing." f The modern 

* Dicet scripta quam res patietur pl^^rima, et, ut Demosthenes ait, si con- 
tinget, et sculpta. — Qiiintilian, XII. 9, 16. 

t*AAA&)S T6 Koi Twv TOTe avbpuiiTuu oh ypaiTTols, aWa y\vTno7s Kol TopevTo7s 
ioiKoras iK<p(p6m(t)u \6yous. Dionysius, De compositione verhoruvi XXV. 



212 SUPPLEMENT. 

world takes a totally different view of this subject. It Is of opinion 
that he who is entirely filled with his idea cannot possibly expend so 
great care upon the Form ; and, In the instance of the orator parti- 
cularly, any art shown in style is a sign that he Is less anxious for the 
profit of his hearers, than for their applause. But, on the contrary, 
one might ask whether such care expended upon the Form is not 
necessary for the very sake of the Matter, — necessary in order to 
present it to the view of the hearer in untroubled purity and clear- 
ness ? We seem to assume, that in such sedulousness. Form and Mat- 
ter must necessarily separate from each other, and the Form become 
a thing for and by Itself, which we seek to adorn, without regard to 
the Matter. But that this is by no means necessary, the example of 
Demosthenes proves, against whom, most certainly, this objection can- 
not be brought. On the contrary, the fault, which the Moderns too 
frequently commit, of giving the Form an ornament Independent of 
the Matter, Is not to be imputed to art, but to the want of art ; for in 
the estimation of true art, the most perfect Form is nothing but the 
clearest and boldest translucence of the Material Itself." 

Lord Brougham also notices this attention to diction by the great or- 
ators of antiquity, in his " Dissertation upon the Eloquence of the An- 
cients" " We perceive," he remarks, " the exquisite care taken by the 
ancient orators to strike and to please their audience. In the attention 
paid by them to the rythm or numbers of their periods. In the an- 
cient institutes of Rhetoric, that subject forms a separate and impor- 
tant head, which, or even the mention of which, would scarcely be 
borne among us. It must at the same time be observed, that although 
we are so suspicious of whatever would give an appearance of theat- 
rical display to the business of debate, our greatest orators, neverthe- 
less, have excelled by a careful attention to rythm, and some of the 
finest passages of modern eloquence owe their unparalleled succes. 
undeniably to the adoption of those Iambic measures which thrilled 
and delighted the Roman Forum, and the Dactylus and Paeonlcus, 
which were the luxury of the Attic Ecclesla. Witness the former In 
Mr. Erskines celebrated passage respecting the Indian chief, and the 
latter in Mr. Grattan's peroration to his speech on Irish independence." 



SUPPLEMENT. 213 



Note IL Fage 185. 

" It is a common tHng," says Lord Brougham, " witli those "who, 
because Cu;ero is more ornate, suffers the artifice of his composition to 
appear more plainly, and indulges more in amplification, imagine that 
he is less argumentative than the Greek orators, to represent the 
latter, and especially Demosthenes, as distinguished by great closeness 
of reasoning. If by this is only meant that he never wanders from 
the subject, that each remark tells upon the matter in hand, that all 
his illustrations are brought to bear upon the point, and that he is 
never found making any step, in any direction, which does not advance 
his main object, and lead towards the conclusion to which he is striv- 
ing to bring his hearers, the observation is perfectly just ; for this 
is a distinguishing feature in the character of his eloquence. It is not, 
indeed, his grand excellence, because everything depends upon the 
manner in which he pursues this course, the course itself being one 
quite as open to the humblest mediocrity as to the highest genius. 
But if it is meant to be said that those Attic orators, and especially 
their great chief, made speeches in which long chains of elaborate rea- 
soning are to be found, nothing can be less like the truth. A variety 
of topics are handled in succession, all calculated to strike the audience. 
Passions which predominated in their minds are appealed to, feelings 
easily excited among them are aroused by skilful allusions, glaring 
inconsistencies are shown in the advice given by others, sometimes by 
exhibiting the repugnance of those councils among themselves, some- 
times contrasting them with other counsels proceeding from the same 
quartei's. The pernicious tendency of certain measures is displayed 
by referring, sometimes to the general principles of human action, and 
the course which human affairs usually take ; more frequently, by a 
reference to the history of past, and generally of very recent events. 
Much invective is mixed with these topics, and both the enemy without, 
and the evil counsellor within the walls, are unsparingly dealt with. 
The orator was addressing hearers who were for the most part as in- 
timately acquainted as himself with all the facts of the case, and these 
lay within a sufficiently narrow compass, being the actual state of 
public affairs, and the victories or the defeats w^hich had, within the 
memory of all, attended their arms, or the transactions which had 
taken place among thera in very recent times. No detailed statements 



214 SUPPLEMENT. 

■were therefore wanted for their information. He was really speaking 
to them respecting their own affairs, or rather respecting what they 
had just been doing or witnessing themselves. Hence a very short 
allusion alone was generally required to raise the idea which he de- 
sired to present before his audience. Sometimes a word was enough 
for his purpose ; the naming of a man or a town ; the calling to their 
recollection what had been done by the one, or had happened to the 
other. The effect produced by such a rapid interchange of ideas and 
impressions, must have struck every one who has been present at 
public meetings. He will have remarked that some such apt allusion 
has a power, produces an electrical effect, not to be reached by any 
chain of reasoning, however close, and that even the most highly 
wrought passages, and the most exquisite composition, fall far short of 
it in rousing or controlling the minds of a large assembly. Chains 
of reasoning, examples of fine argumentation, are calculated to pro- 
duce their effect upon a far nicer, a more confined, and a more select 
audience. But such apposite allusions, such appropriate topics, such 
happy hits, (to use a homely but expressive phrase), have a sure, an 
irresistible, a magical effect upon a popular assembly. — Dissertation 
on the Eloquence of the Ancients. 



QUESTIONS 



Mention the primary cliaracteristics of Eloquence. "WTiicli one is to be 
selected as furnishing its fundamental and constituent principle ? Practical 
effect of selecting either of its other affinities as its fundamental principle ? 
Distinctive difference between a product within the provinces of philosophy 
and poetry, and one within that of practical hfe ? Proof from the examples 
of Sophocles and Demosthenes, that the productive agency of the orator lies 
in the sphere of active life ? Inference from this with regard to the essen- 
tial nature of Eloquence ? 

"What is meant by saying that Eloquence is a Yirtuc 1 Relation of 
knowledge, culture, and special training, to Eloquence ? Illustrate by refer- 
ence to the art of painting. Explain the relation of t!ie orator to the hearer, 
and the consequent nature of the influence he is to exert upon him. State 
the highest and most general law of Eloquence. Mention the general Ideas 
to be assumed by the orator as necessarily existing in every hearer. Parti- 
cular modifications which they undergo in the spheres of Churcli and State? 

Mention the three species of orations assumed by the Ancient Rheto- 
ricians. Coincidence of this division with the theory of the Author 1 Con- 
nection bctAveen the Ethical theory of Eloquence, and the success of the 
Orator ? Reasons why an appeal to the Passions is not so likely to succeed, 
as an address to the JNIoral Ideas 1 Mention the subordinate Ideas or Cate- 
gories. Explain the manner in Avhich they enter into the structure of an 
oration. The particular species of oration in which each is prominent 1 
Effect of making either one of them predominant in an oration 1 

Distinction between the Rhetorical and the Philosophical presentation of 
truth 1 Does the oration admit of a strictly philosophical demonstration of 
truth 1 How is truth to be established in Rhetorical discourse ? Define the 
term popularity, in relation to the orator. Connection of morality, or 
strength of character, in the orator, with the existence of this quality in the 
oration ? Relation of the above-mentioned Ideas and Categories to the Plan 
and Division of an oration ? Advantage of this method of constructing 
the doctrine of the Plan ? Define the simple oration ; the complex. Define 
the Exordium. Its distinguishing characteristics 1 What tends to lengthen 
the Exordium ? Is practice to be uniform with regard to the prcannounce- 
ment of the parts of the development in an oration ? Did the Ancients 
observe this practice ? Why ? Principle upon which the division of the 
simple oration should proceed ? Illustrate by a sermon of Reinhardt. 
What peculiarity in the manner of announcing the division, in the French 



216 QUESTIONS. 

preachers ? Effect liable to result from this ? How many parts has the 
complex oi'ation ? Relation of the Will and Character to Eloquence ? 
Illustrate by the examples of Demosthenes, and the younger Cato. Defini- 
tion of the Orator by the elder Cato, according- to Quintilian ? 

Define Elocution or Style, in distinction from Invention. Eaults in the 
treatment of this part of Rhetoric, by the Ancients 7 Peculiarity in the cir- 
cumstances of the Ancient Orator, contributing to this ? Example of 1)q- 
raosthenes, in regard to the employment of artifices in Elocution ? Distinc- 
tion between Affection and Passion ? To what must the orator counno 
himself, in case he does not awaken and address the Affections of his liearers ? 
Consequences of this? Connection between Affection and Action in the 
hearer? By what Idea are the affections of Zeal, Shame, Penitence, and 
Auger generated ? How may they degenerate into Passions i Defect in 
Aristotle's treatment of this part of the subject 1 Define Wit in relation to 
Affection and Enthusiasm. What consequently is its general relation to Elo- 
quence 1 The most valid reason for employing it, mentioned by Cicero 1 
Confirmation of this view of Wit, derived from a comparison of Demos- 
thenes with Cicero ? 

Why may not the Philosophical, or the Poetical, presentation of thouglit, 
be employed by the orator, in order to produce Affection in the hearer ? 
Mention the three Laws which impel and regulate the Rhetorical piesenta- 
tion of thought. Define the law of Adaptfition. Essential nature of this 
law, and its connection with Affection in the hearer ? What does this law 
prescribe with respect to the hearer s power of comprehension ? With re- 
spect to language 1 With respect to phrases and images ? Importance of 
knowledge and culture in this respect ? Mention the chief causes which pre- 
vent the orator from adapting his oration to the individuality of the hearer. 
How far may the orator venture, in dealing with the faults of his auditors ? 
Illusti'ate"' by Demosthenes, and the French preachers of the age of Louis 
XI y. Are brilliancy and high coloring characteristic of the highest style of 
Eloquence ? What examples in Ancient and Modern Oratory prove this 1 
Define the law of Constant Progress. Its essential nature? Effect of a stop 
in the progress of an oration ? The surest means of securing constant pro- 
gress ? Maxim in relation to the employment of Nan-ation and Description ? 
Ground of the maxim ? What does the law of Constant Progress prescribe 
respecting the development of individual thoughts in an oration ? Manage- 
ment of arguments accoi'ding to this law ? Relation of strength of Charac- 
ter, in the orator, to progress in the oration ? Define the law of Vivacity. 
Its essential nature ? Tlie true source whence figures should be derived ? 
Distinctive difference between Poetical and Rhetorical tropes ? To what 
law is tlie employment of figures to be subjected ? Example of Demos- 
thenes ? Distinctive difference between Prose and Poetry 1 Between 
Number and Metre? Explain the origin and construction of Prose on 
ethical principles. 



WARREN F. DRAPER, 

PUBLISHER AID BOOKSELLER, 

ANDOVER, MASS., 

PUBLISHES A>:D OFFEKR for sale the rOLLOWI>'G, "WHICH WILL BE SI:^":' 
POST PAID ON RECEIPT OF THE SUM KAMED. 



GUEmCETS'S CHUHCH HISTORT (Ancient Church,- including the 
First Six Centuries). Translated by William G T. Shedd, Browu I'roiessor 
in Andover Theological Seminary. 442 pp. 8vo. S2.25. 

The established credit of Guericke's labors in the department of Ecclesiastical Ilis'ory, nnd the 
use made of his works by many English writers will mike this volume acceptable to a very U.ge 
class of students and readers. — London Journal of Haa-ed Literature. 

Guericke's History is characterized by research, devoutness, firm grasp of evangelical truth, 
and careful exhibition of the practical as well as the intellectual aspects of Cliristianity. — .AwrtA 
Britisli Iteview. 

We regard Professor Shedd's version as a happy specimen of the tmnsfuMon, rather than a 
translation, which many of the German treatises should receive. The style of his version is far 
superior to that of the original. — Bidiotkeca Sacra. 

Among the most faithful, and yet the most indrpendent, of the followers of Ncander, may he 
mentioned Guericke, who carrit-a out XeandL-r's plan in a more compendious form, but with an 
almost bigoted attachment to the peculiar doctrines of Luther, in a style so crabbed and involved, 
tliat we should not have hesitated to pronounce it untranslafable, hut fur tlie fact that an eminent 
teacher and accomplished writer of our own country has achieved wliat we regarded as a sheer 
impossibility. "We are glad to have a book made legible in English, which, in spite of its original 
uncouthness, hai been eminently useful, as a vehicle, not only of the best historical knowledge, 
but of sincere piety, and sound religious sentinunt in reference to all essentials. — iVtnce<o» 
Beview. 

In clearness the style of the translation exceeds the original. The natural animation and life- 
like character, which commonly vanish in the process of translating from the German, have been 
retained with signal success. "We are disposed to consider it the best of the current text-books 
for the use for which Prof. Shedd designs it. — yew Enylumter, 

Ilere is a Manual of Church History which may be confidently recommended, without reserve 
or qualification, to students belonging to all evancelical churches. Guericke is thoroughly Or- 
thodox. Ilis evangelical belief and feeling give him a lively and appreeiaiive interest in tlie in- 
ternal history of the Church ; he devotes special attention to the development of doctr.nes, and 
presents the range of thought and substance of opinion distinguishing the works of the princi- 
pal writers in successive ages of the Church. Guericke's manual is complete in the particular 
lines of history he has chosen, and is a most useful and reliable book for the theological class- 
room Protessr>r Shedd has wisely translated with freedom, and has improved the structure of the 
work. — Xonconformist, 

"We are glad that a Manual of Church History has appeared which exhibits, at once, undoubted 
orthodoxy,, and that grasp of mind which alone is capable of treating such a subject with a lu- 
minous anvi lively brevity.— Clerical JoumaL 

"With the af^lditions and improvements made in the successive editions, it is now, on the whole, 
the most reo/ZaWe work on Church History to be found. "We have used the original for some 
years, and er tirely agree with the translator, that it hits the mean between an offensive fullness 
and a barren epitome. — Central Christian Herald. 



JPublications of W. F. Draper^ Andover 



DISCOUBSES AND ESSAYS. By William G. T. Shedd. 271 pp. 

12mo. 85 cts. 

The striking sincerity, vigor, and learning of this volume will be admired even by those rend- 
ers who cannot go with the author in all his opinions. Whatever debate the philosopliical ten- 
dencies of the book may challenge, its literary ability and moral spirit will be commended every 
■where. — New Englander. 

These elaborate articles are written in a lucid and racy style, and invest with a rare interest the 
themes of which they treat. — BiUiotheca Sacra. 

These Discourses are all marked by profound thought, and perspicuity of sentiment.— 
Princeton Review. 

The Essay on a Natural Rhetoric we earnestly commend to all persons who publicly assume 
either to speak or to write. — Universalist Quarterly. 

Few clearer and more penetrating minds can be found in our country than that of Prof. Shedd. 
If the mind gets dull, or dry, or ungovernable, put it to grappling with these masterly produc- 
tions. — Congregational Herald, Chicago. 

Each of these Discourses is profoundly and ingeniously elaborated, and the volume as a whole 
is a testimony to higlily intellectual andconsisteut views of evangelical tr\xi\\. — Boston Recorder-. 

IjECTUBES UPO]Sr the philosophy of HISTOKY. By 

William G. T. Shedd. 128 pp. 12mo. 60 cts. 

Professor Shedd has already achieved a high reputation for the union of philosophic insight 
with genuine scholarship, of depth and clearness of thought with force and elegance of style, 
pnd for profound views of sin and grace, cherished not merely on theoretical, but still more on 
moral and experimental gronnAs. — Princeton Review. 

This volume consists of four lectures, of which the following are the titles: The Abstract Idea 
of History; The Nature and Definition of Secular History ; The Nature and Definition of Church 
History; The "Verifying Test in Church History. It is written in a lucid style, and will interest 
the students of theology and of history. — Bibliotheca Sacra, 

The style of these Lectures has striking merits. The author chooses his words with rare skill 
and taste, from an ample vocabulary; and writes with strength and refreshing simplicity The 
Philosophy of Realism, in application to history and historical theology, is advocated by vigorous 
reasoning, and made intelligible by original and felicitous illustrations. — iVe?^ Englander. 

The "Lectures upon the Philosophy of History," is an extraordinary specimen of the meta- 
physical treatise, and the charm of its rhetoric is not less noticeable. Prof Shedd never puts his 
creed under a bushel, but there are few students of any sect or class that will not derive great as- 
sistance from his labors. — Universalist Quarterly. 

It bears the impress of an elegant as well as liighly philosophical mind. — Boston Recorder. 

OUTLINES OP A SYSTEMATIC KHETORIO. From the German 
of Dr. Francis Theremin, by William G. T. Shedd. Third and Eevised 
Edition, with an Introductory Essay by the translator, pp. 216. 12mo. 75 cts. 

Advanced students will find it well worthy of perusal. The adoption of its leading ideas would 
ennoble the art of rhetoric into a science, the practice of speaking into a virtue, and would clothe 
the whole subject in our schools and colleges with a fresh and vital interest. — Bibliotheca 
Sacra. 

Every minister and theological professor (in composition and rhetoric especially) should read 
it. A more thorough and suggestive, and, in the main,se?7Si67e view of the subject is hardly to be 
found. The central idea of Theremin's theory is, that Eloquence is a Virtue, and he who reads 
this little book will be sure to receive an impulse in the direction of masculine thoughtful dis- 
course. — Congregational Herald. 



Publications of TTT F. Draper^ Andover. 



AUBERLElSr ON DANIEL AND THE BEVELATION. Trans- 
lated by Eev. Adolph Sapbir. 490 pp. -Sl.SO. 

" It is refreshing to one's spirit to receive a book of this kind from Germany The 

Prophecies of Daniel and of John have long been the sport of unbelieving criticism; and if 
tlieir authority, as the products of Divine inspiration, could have been overthrown bj- learning 
and ingenuity and industry, this would long since have been accomplished. Undismayed by 
the long array of learned names against him, Auberlen, comparatively a young writer, has 
undertaken the defence of tliese books, and has manfully fulfilled his task." [See notice in 
I3ibf Sacra, vol. 12, prge 643 sq. 

HENDERSON'S COMMENTARY ON THE MINOR PRO- 
PHETS. 490 pp. 8vo. S3.00. 

The only critical Commentary on the subject accessible to English students. A work care- 
fully prepared by an able scliolar 

JAHN'S BIBLICAL ARCH^OLOG-Y. Translated, with Additions, 
by Prof. Thomas C. Upham. 573 pp. Svo. SI. 75. 

This is a standard work in its department. It is a very excellent book for Sabbath school 
teachers and advanced classes. There are probably none superior within the same compass. 

SCHAUFPLER'S MEDITATIONS ON THE LAST DAYS OF 

CHPtlST. 439 pp. 12mo. SI 00. 

The first sixteen chapters of the book consist of Meditations on the last days of Christ, 
preached in the midst of plague and death, by Kev. Jlr. Scliauffler, at Constantinople; the second 
part, of eight sermons on the l"th chapter of John, and is a practical exposition of that chapter. 

VENEMA'S INSTITUTES OF THEOLOGY. Translated by Eev. 

A. W. BPvOwis-, Edinburgb. 532 pp. Svo. Fine edition. SI. 50. 

"It must be admitted, that Tenoma had far more independence, both of thought and style 
than belonged to many of his contemporaries. The perusal of Venema's treatise cannot fail, 
•we think, to awaken a spirit of Biblical investigation, and to illustrate the importance of an ac- 
curate and well-balanced theological system."— [Bib. Sac, January, 1854. 

RUSSELL'S PULPIT ELOCUTION. Comprising Remarks on the 
Effect of Manner in Public Discourse: the Elements of Elocution applied to 
the Reading of the Scriptures, Hymns and Sermons; with observations on the 
Principles of Gesture ; and a Selection of Exercises in Reading and Speaking. 
With an Introduction by Prof. E. A. Park and Rev. E N. Kirk. 413 pp. 
12mo. Second edition. 81.00. 

*' Mr. Russel is known as one of the masters of elocutionary science in the United States. He 
has labored long, skilfully, and successfully in that most interesting field, and has acquired an 
honored name among the teachers and writers upon rherotic. It is one of the most thorough 
publications upon the subject, and is admirably addressed to the correction of the various de- 
fects which diminish the influence of pulpit discourses. It is already an established authority 
in many places." — [Literary World. 

ADDRESSES OF REV. DRS. STURTEVANT AND STEARNS 
at the Anniversary of the American Congregational Union, May 1855. 25 cts. 

NEMESIS SACRA. A series of Inquiries, Philosophical and Critical, into 
the Scripture Doctrine of Retribution on Earth. 550 pp. S2.75. 
The design of this work is to show that God not only chastises his friends in love, but also 
punishes them in anger, while on earth. This is attempted to be shown partly from reason, but 
chiefly from revelation. The argument from revelation consists in detailing tlie hi.'itory of Adam, 
Abraham, Lot, Jacob and Ids sons, Moses, the Judges, Eli, David, Solomon, and others, and 
tracing the conaectiou between their suflorings and their slus. — Bib, Sacra, 1&59. 



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THSOLOGIA GEBMATsTICA. Which setteth forth many fair lineaments 
of Divine Truth, and saith very lofty and lovely things touching a Perfect Life. 
Edited by Du. PfeiffePv, from the only complete manuscript yet known. 
Translated from the German by Susa^^xa Winicworth "With a Preface by 
the Eev. Charles Ki^gsley, Rector of Eversley; and a Letter to the Trans- 
lator, by the Chevalier Bu^sex, D. D , D. C. L., etc.; and an Introduction 
by Prof. Calvin E. Stoave, D. D. 275 pp. 13mo. Cloth, $1.00 : calf. £2 00. 

This treatise was discovered by Luther, who first brought it into notice by an edition wljich 
he published in 1516, of wliich he says : " And I -will say, though it be boasting of myself, and 
'I speak as a fool,' that, next to the Bible and St. Augustine, no book hath ever come into my 
hands whence I have learnt, or ■would wish to learn, more of what God and Christ, and man, 
and all things, arc." 

" The times and the circnmstances in which this most rich, thoughtful, and spiritually 
quickening little treatise was produced, —the national and ecclesiastical tendencies and influ- 
ences which invested its author, and which gave tone, direction, and pressure to his thoughts, 
— are amply and well set forth in the preface by Sliss Winkworth, and the letter of Bunsen. 
The treatise itself is richly deserving of the eulogies upon it so emphatically and aflFectionately 
uttered by Prof. Stowe and Mr. Kingsley.and, long before them, by Luther, who said that it 
had profited him ' more than any other book, save only the Bible and the works of Augustine,' 
Sin, as a universal disease and defilement of the nature of man ; Christ, as an indwelling life, 
light, and heavenly power ; Holiness, as the utmost good for the soul ; and Heaven, as the 
state or place of the consummation of this holiness, with the consequent vision of God, and 
the ineffable joy and peace, — these are the theme of the book. Audit has the grand, and ia 
this day the so rare and almost singular merit, of having been prompted by a real and deep relig- 
ious experience, and of having been written, not with outward assistance, but with the enthu- 
siasm, the spiritual wisdom, and the immense inward freedom and energy, of a soul itself con- 
scious of union with Christ, and exulting in the sense of being made, through him, ' a partaker 
of the Divine nature.' 

" Those who have known the most of Christ will value most this " golden treatise." Those 
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it to instruct and to quicken them. To such it will be an invaluable volume worth thousands 
upon thousands of modern scientific or hortatory essaj's upon " Keligion made easy." 

" It is printed by ]Mr. Draper, at the Andover press, in the old English style, with beautiful 
carefulness and skill, and is sent, post paid, to all who remit to him one dollar." — [Independent. 

The work is at once a literary curiosity and a theological gem,— [Puritan Recorder. 

This little volume which is brought out in antique type, is, apart from its intrinsic value, a 
curiosity of literature. It may be regarded as the harbinger of the Protestant Eetbrmation. — 
[Evening Traveller. 

"WniTriSrGS Oj? PHOPESSOR B. B. ED"WAIIDS. With a Memoir 
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These works consist of seven Sermons, sixteen Essays, Addresses and Lectures, and a Me- 
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EBSKIirai OIT THE IIvTTERlNrAL EVIDENCE FOR THE 
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Edinburgh Edition. 139 pp 16mo. 50 cents. 

"Tlie entire treatise cannot fail to commend the positions which it ad vocatejf to intelligent 
and considerate minds. It is one of the best, perhaps the best, of all the discussions of ti>:s 
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" This argument of Erskine for the Internal Evidence of the Truth of Bevealed Religion, is, 
the most compact, natural and convincing we have ever read from a<iy author," — [Chris. Chron. 

"No man ought to consider himself as having studied theology, unless he has read, and pon- 
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THE ANGEIi OVER TH3 EIGHT SHOULDER. By the author 

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BIBLE HISTORY OF PRAYER. By C A. Goodrich. 384 pp. 
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The aim of this little volume is to embody an account of the delightful and successful inter- 
course of believers -with heaven for some four thousand j'ears. The author has indulged a 
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several prayers. 

HISTORICAL DEVELOPMETTT OP SPECULATIVE PHI- 
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Chalybaeus. With an Introductory Kote by Sir WiLLiAai HAMiLTOif. 
1vol. 12mo. 81.25. 

Those who are in search of knowledge on this perplexed subject, without having time to in- 
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See also notice of this work on page 635 of Bib. Sac, July, 1854. 

VIiraJT'S HISTORY OP FRE]>3"CH LITERATURE IW THE 
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^CVORKS OP LEONARD "WOODS, D. D. 5 vols. 8vo. SiaOO. 

Vols. I., n. and III., Lectures. — Vol. IV., Letters and Essays,— Vol. V. — Essays and Ser- 
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COMMENTARY ON THE EPISTLE TO THE ROMANS. By 
Trof. M. Stuart. Third edition. Revised by Trof. K. D. C Eobbins. 1 vol. 
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We heartily commend this work to all students of the Bible. The production of one of the 
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COMMENTARY ON THE EPISTLE TO THE HEBREWS. By 

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STUART'S MISCELLANIES, pp. 3G9. 12mo 75 cents. 

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CODEX VATICANUS H KAINH AIA0HKH. Kovum Testamentum 
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collation, even, has never before been permitted, though often sought. The present work is aa 
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This work as now conducted, deserves a large and generous patronage from clergymen of all 
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INDEX TO THE BIBLIOTHECA SACRA AND BIBLICAL 
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DODERLEIN'S HAHD-BOOK OF LATIN SYNONYMSS. Trans- 
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The little volume mentioned above, introduced to the American public by an eminent Scholar 
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teachers and learners, and will amply reward patient study. — £. D. Sanhoi-n, late Professor of 
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The present hand-book of Doderlein is remarkable for the brevity, distinctness, perspicuity, 
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witliout discovering some hint which may be useful to a tlieologian. * * * * From the pre- 
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POUjITICAL ECONOMY: Designed as a Text-Book for Colleges. By 
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THE BOOK OF THE T'WELVE MINOR PBOPHETS, Translated 
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Keeps constantly on hand, at the Andover Printing and Publishing 
House, a large assortment of 

which he offers to the trade, and to individuals, at the lowest rates. 
Among his collection will always be found all the standard works in 
Theology, Biblical Exegesis, Church History, etc., etc. 

Having many facilities for importing European Books, he is able 
to furnish his customers with all possible dispatch, and on the best 
terms. Particular attention paid to furnishing libraries to Clergy- 
men and Theological Students, and to the collection of rare theo- 
logical works. 

Orders by mail promptly attended to. All books in this catalogue 
will be sent by mail, post paid, on receipt of the sums afl^Lxed. 

Andover, Mass. 















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